Invisible Scars
by snoopygubs
Summary: Some scars are out there for the world to see, while others lie beneath the surface. Ron and Hermione attempt to fix what has broken between them, as Ginny and Harry do their best to let each other go.
1. Everything Changes

**Invisible Scars**

_I only own the plot. I hope everyone liked HBP, I know I did. So much of what I wanted to happen, did, and I loved it. Except for, well, you know. It was amazingly depressing, but many of my friends agree…it had to happen in a strange way, since Harry needs to be strong enough to go on alone. _

_**This story WILL have spoilers for HBP, especially my dedication at the end. So, if you haven't read HBP, I wouldn't recommend this story.**_

_Hope you enjoy…_

**Chapter 1 – Everything Changes**

Ron awoke with a jolt, having just entered very dangerous territory in his vivid, completely intoxicating dream. There was a sheen of sweat on his brow that he wiped away quickly, cursing the overbearing August heat that had made him fall asleep in the first place.

Although, he had to admit, it wasn't the heat that had him so bothered. It was the appearance, for the millionth time that summer, of his bushy-haired best friend in situations that would cause him to blush in normal, waking hours.

Sighing loudly, he was distracted from his thoughts by the buzz of voices wafting through his open door. He reached for the watch his parents had given him for his birthday and tried to focus his overtired eyes. Eleven o'clock. No one but his mother and sister should be home at this time of the day, and since Ginny had taken to very long bouts of complete silence all summer, he was surprised to hear the slight commotion.

Suddenly, he sat bolt upright in bed when the time and the date fully registered in his hazy brain. It was three days before Bill and Fleur's wedding. Hermione had said in her last letter that she would be arriving around lunchtime exactly three days before the big event.

He jumped out of bed and grabbed shorts and a white t-shirt from the top of his desk. He dressed hastily, then groaned when he saw his disheveled appearance in the mirror.

"You won't impress her much looking like that, dear," the mirror said lazily. Ron grimaced at his reflection and yanked open his dresser drawer with such force that it came flying out and landed on his bare feet.

"Ron, Hermione's here!" he heard his mother yell from the bottom of the stairs.

He bit back his yelp of pain as he began tossing shirts around, searching for one that would make him look at least halfway presentable. He settled on a striped blue one and tugged it over his head with a bit of difficulty. He realized why when he spotted himself in the mirror again. The shirt had either shrunk, or he'd swelled in size due to the heat, but the shirt was stretched tightly over his chest and was practically cutting off his air supply around his neck.

He grabbed the ends of the shirt and yanked it up, only to get it caught over his head. Swearing loudly, he fought with the fabric for a full minute, twisting every way he could to try and free himself from the shirt.

"Bloody hell!" he growled darkly, thinking quickly of simply tearing the damned shirt to pieces so he could breathe.

"You shouldn't swear."

His hands immediately ceased their fruitless tugging as Hermione's voice floated toward him from his doorway. He closed his eyes in mortification, realizing that all of his daydreams of seeing her for the first time since the end of the year were now completely out the window.

He'd had it all planned. He would breeze into the room, looking calm, cool and collected, and drop a smooth line like, "Hey, Hermione, good to see you. You're looking well." Not a single scenario had included him sweating like mad, hopping around half naked in his room with a shirt caught firmly around his big head.

"Need any help?" she asked, her voice sounding amused. The last thing he wanted was to be face to face with her right now, but he didn't have much of a choice. It was either that, or master the art of eating through the striped cotton.

"Yeah, I guess," he said, his voice muffled through the shirt. He heard her let out a small giggle, and his ears burned red. Why was it every time he was around her, he did something incredibly stupid?

"Hold still," she said, and in the next instant he felt her hands moving under the fabric around his face to try and stretch it out a bit.

Whatever she'd done worked, since his head came sliding out a moment later. His arms were still trapped in the sleeves above his head, but at least now he could breathe.

Well, he could have if she hadn't been standing right in front of him, her arms raised to free him from the sleeves. Her body was brushing up against his as she worked, and he forced himself to look anywhere but her face. He could feel the sweat running a trail down his front, but he couldn't tell whether it was from the heat of the room or from the close proximity of the girl he couldn't seem to get his mind off of for more than two straight minutes.

"There," she said as she pulled hard on the shirt to free his arms. They dropped like lead weights to his side, and he watched in mild fascination as she tossed his shirt onto the bed.

Hermione Granger had just removed his shirt from him.

Not the thing daydreams were made of, but she had still undressed him. In his mind, the details weren't important. All that was important was the smile on her face and the slight flush of her cheeks.

He stood paralyzed for a moment longer, until he realized that he was standing in front of her, sweaty, bare-chested, silent and stupid for much too long.

He made a move to step around her, but her hand came out to rest on his elbow. His eyes snapped to hers immediately and he was surprised to find them focused on him intently. His heart began hammering so hard he was afraid it was going to burst out of his skin.

Was she checking him out? His mind whirled delightedly around the possibility, but was brought to a sudden and abrupt halt when she reached out and ran her fingers along the raised marks on his left arm.

Her touch was so soft that his eyes almost closed, but he forced himself to keep them open as he watched her trace the long scars.

"These are from the ministry, aren't they?" she asked in a small voice, appearing almost entranced.

"Yeah," he said, wishing he could come up with something more than that. Didn't girls like scars? He remembered Charlie saying something about how his scars were magnets for women. He tried to talk about them as much as possible when he took someone out on a date. Should he say something manly about his?

"I didn't realize that they were so…" She trailed off, her eyes still following the path of her fingers as they moved slowly up his arm.

His breath stuck in his throat as her fingernails scraped lightly across the muscle in his upper arm. He sent up a silent prayer of thanks that Quidditch had gotten him in fairly good shape, and was infinitely pleased when he saw her eyes widen slightly as they continued their journey.

She had run out of room on his arm and her hand paused in mid-air. Her eyes flickered to his chest where the scar continued in a horizontal path across the entire area, and he watched, the air stuck somewhere in his lungs, as a look he couldn't fathom crossed her face.

"Pronounced," she said finally, her voice sounding weak and shaky. He willed her to move her hand, to touch him on the skin above the area where she was causing him such an upheaval.

She didn't, however, and in the next instant, the hold over both of them was broken when she seemed to come to herself as she put a safe distance between them.

"I performed a couple of spells on mine last summer," she said, her voice now sounding like her own again. "It hasn't faded completely, but it looks much better than it did. I realized I had to do something when I couldn't find a swimsuit that would cover it all summer."

Visions of Hermione in a low-cut swimsuit flooded his already addled brain, and he realized that if he didn't get a hold over things now, they would spiral out of the point of all control. He merely nodded at her as he moved around her to retrieve a shirt from the pile on the floor.

"I could try the spells on you if you'd like," she continued, as she turned away while he pulled the shirt over his head. "They won't disappear, but they won't look as raised."

_Well, so much for Charlie's theory on scars and their attractiveness to women_, he thought idly. Hermione didn't seem the least impressed that half his body was covered in manly scars.

"That's alright," he said, realizing that these were the first words he'd spoken in quite some time. He had to clear his brain. He had to. How would he get through the rest of her visit if he was constantly thinking of her and how much he wanted to be alone with her?

"You'd rather keep them?" she asked, surprise evident in her voice. "It really is a quick and painless spell."

"I'm sure it is," he reasoned, watching as Pig zoomed about in the corner of his room. "But Charlie once told me that girls like his scars…"

He stopped himself from speaking immediately, remembering that there was now a line between them that he couldn't cross. From the direction of his previous thoughts, he felt he should have known this all too well. There were just some things that he couldn't talk about with her any more, and his attractiveness to girls was most definitely not one of them.

The look on her face was proof enough. It was as if a curtain had been drawn across her features, hiding the real Hermione from his view. She turned away from him slightly so only the smallest angle of her profile was visible.

"Yes, I'm sure some would find them quite roguish. I suppose Lavendar was sufficiently impressed," she said with a strong hint of finality in her voice.

Ron felt like bashing his head into the nearest wall. Why was it that everything he did or said around her was imbecilic and wrong? Why couldn't he simply say the right thing at the right moment when it came to Hermione?

"Hermione, I've been meaning to…" he started, but she spun around so fast that he was afraid she'd given herself whiplash.

"Ron, it really isn't necessary. I was out of line, and I think we should just go downstairs." She said all of this really fast, and began to move toward his door. "I didn't see Ginny when I got here, and I've been so worried about her. She hasn't answered any of my letters and I have the feeling that she and Harry broke up."

This news came as such a surprise to him that it put all thoughts of awkward conversations about ex-girlfriends out of his mind.

"Are you sure?" he asked, following her to the door. "She hasn't said anything to me about it, and neither has Harry."

She gave him a long suffering look, one that he was more than used to. If he had wished that things would be normal and familiar between them, he was now getting his wish. "Honestly Ron, do you think that if they did break up that Ginny would come running to you? And Harry has more than enough on his plate to be running about writing letters of his girl problems – with your baby sister, no less – to you?"

"Well, no, but why didn't Ginny tell you then?" he snapped back, tired of feeling like a complete idiot around her. Maybe he didn't understand girls and relationships and the like, but that was no reason for her to act like she had all the answers.

"Some things are just private, I suppose," she said, her voice changing slightly. "I don't tell Ginny everything either."

The silence stretched out between them once again, but before it could grab hold, Hermione huffed and swung her hair over her shoulders.

"I'm going to go and see if she'll talk to me. I'll see you later, okay?" she said, now all-business once again.

"Sure," he said, running a hand through his hair. "See you later."

It might have been his imagination, but she paused longer than necessary at his door, almost as if she didn't really want to leave. He was just about to call her back in, to sit her down and actually tell her all the things he'd been meaning to tell her since his idiotic behavior after she'd invited him to Slughorn's party, when she flashed him the briefest of smiles and disappeared out the door.

Ron sank into his desk chair and leaned his forehead on his hands. Here it was, barely five minutes into Hermione's visit, and he was so mixed up and out of sorts that he couldn't even see straight.

He groaned as his head began to pound mercilessly. If this was what it would be like for the next few days until the guests began to arrive, he didn't know if he'd be able to make it.

* * *

Before descending the stairs to the second floor landing, Hermione allowed herself a quick moment to compose herself. She took a shaky breath, realizing she hadn't breathed properly since seeing Ron with his shirt entangled over his head.

At first, the sight had caused her heart to race simply because she was staring at her half-clothed best friend. His state of undress had her flashing to images that she'd worked extremely hard all summer to put as far out of her mind as she could. After all, silly daydreams were one thing when he was nowhere in the general vicinity. Now, however, he would be everywhere. He would be there when she woke up and he'd be there right before she went to sleep. It would be hard enough to keep him from her thoughts as it was. She didn't need to replay the way his muscles stretched as he fought with the offending article of clothing.

The images were replaced quickly with the sight of his scars. She had wanted to make it all better and had wound up making it worse for herself by being stupid enough to touch him. She cringed slightly at her brazen attitude. She'd allowed herself to practically paw him while he stood there staring at her.

Feeling the heat rise to her cheeks, she took another steadying breath and told herself what she'd told herself all summer. Ron was her best friend, and from their behavior last year, neither was ready to face whatever it was that had been floating around the edges of that friendship for a while now. She had resigned herself to that fact, and she was determined to keep her word to herself.

She hadn't thought that she'd ever find the courage to be the one to make the first gesture, but she had been. Her invitation to Slughorn's party was as forward as she had been prepared to be, and when he'd accepted, she had truly thought that they were on their way to figuring things out. Then the Lavendar fiasco occurred, as she had come to call it, and she didn't think that her ego could take another hit as hurtful as that.

She had vowed to herself that if they were ever to approach things again, she would wait for him, since he'd been the one that was obviously not ready. At least he hadn't been ready for anything with her. Lavendar, on the other hand…

Shrugging off the horrible feelings she'd come to be so accustomed to, she straightened her back and continued down the stairs to Ginny's room. She really was concerned about her, and since Ginny hadn't replied to any of her letters, she had a feeling that her presence might not be entirely welcome.

She rapped softly on Ginny's door and waited for a response, shifting nervously from foot to foot.

"I'm not hungry, mum," came Ginny's muffled voice from the other side of the door.

"Ginny, it's Hermione," she called back, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Can I come in?"

The door opened a moment later, and although Ginny didn't exactly look happy to see her, she didn't look angry either. She gave Hermione a small smile and they embraced quickly.

"How are you?" Ginny asked, releasing her and stepping aside to let Hermione in.

"I'm okay, actually," Hermione replied, her eyes sweeping around Ginny's room quickly. Ginny had never been a neat-freak, something that had always been a minor pet peeve of hers when she came to stay for the summers, but the room that laid before her now was perfectly spotless. This fact disturbed Hermione more than she cared to admit. "How have things been around here?" she asked, sitting at Ginny's desk.

Ginny shrugged and moved to sit on her bed. Hermione noticed that there were several open school books on her bed, and her eyebrows rose of their own accord. Now she was really worried. Ginny tended to take her brothers' attitudes toward summer work and school, and Hermione found it incredibly odd that Ginny would be trying to get a head-start on a year that might not even come to be. The fate of Hogwarts was still very much up in the air.

"I'm sorry I didn't answer your letters," Ginny said, shoving a book aside to make room for her legs. She stretched one out in front of her and focused her eyes on her laces. "I haven't been much in the mood for correspondence."

"It's okay," Hermione said.

"How did your parents take everything?" Ginny asked, now playing with the fringe of her blanket. "Did they completely flip out?"

Hermione shuddered a bit at the memory of the discussion she'd had with her parents about the events of last year and her plans for the upcoming one. There had been plenty of tears and protests, and even more shouting and begging, but they had come to an understanding by the end of the two-hour conversation.

"Not well, of course, but I think in the end they finally understood," Hermione replied, wishing Ginny would meet her eyes. "They made me promise that if we do go with Harry in a few weeks, I'll write home at least every other day."

Ginny nodded dully, and Hermione sighed. She was convinced now, more than ever, that Ginny's frostiness had something to do with her personally, and not just the events that transpired a few weeks ago.

"Well, at least your parents know about your intentions. Ron hasn't told mum anything yet. I think he's waiting until after the wedding," Ginny said, her frustration barely controlled. "If you ask me, I wouldn't put it past him to leave first, then send an owl a week later. Leave me to pick up the pieces, as always."

Hermione stared evenly at her friend, not really knowing what to say to her outburst. She knew, better than anyone perhaps, how insensitive and unthinking Ron could be when it came to important matters.

"Have you talked to Ron about his plans?" she asked.

Ginny laughed bitterly and rolled her eyes. "Are you kidding? Ron would tell me to mind my own business, and then I'd have to curse him into the middle of next week."

A silence fell between them, and Hermione waited for Ginny to continue.

Ginny sighed heavily and pushed off the bed. She grabbed her school books and tossed them onto her bookshelf without the least care where they landed. "Look, Hermione, I'm sorry if I seem short or whatever, but I'm having a hard time with all of this."

"All of what?" Hermione asked.

Ginny spun to face her, long trails of fiery hair whipping about with as much anger as was evident in her eyes. "Don't play stupid, Hermione. It doesn't suit you."

"Excuse me?" Hermione had only ever had one minor row with Ginny, and it was enough to last a lifetime. She needed Ginny as much as Ginny needed her, and they had to stick together. "Ginny, what is it that I've done that has you so - "

"So what, Hermione? Angry? Left out? Patronized? Take your pick," Ginny snapped. She leaned against the wall, her arms folded protectively over her chest. "I thought, finally, for the first time last year that I was allowed to be a part of things. The three of you finally allowed others into your little circle. Now, here I am, on the outside again."

"We never meant to do anything that would – "

"Stop!" Ginny interrupted violently. "Just stop! Nothing is going to change, so explaining anything would be pointless. Harry and I broke up because he has to go off and do what he has to do. I understand that; I really do. But the fact that you get to go off with him and fight beside him and make sure he's alright while I either sit home or go back to a school without any of you is not making me feel any better!"

The silence overtook them again, and Hermione sat perfectly still in her chair. She hadn't really thought about leaving Ginny behind yet again. She had simply assumed that it would be the three of them, like it always had been.

"I'm sorry, Ginny," she said in a low voice. "I didn't realize you two had broken up."

Ginny sighed again, her arms dropping to her sides. "Hermione, you're not hearing me. I understand all of that. He doesn't want to continue things while he has so much else to be getting on with. It doesn't mean he doesn't care about me anymore." She pushed away from the wall and sank back onto the corner of her bed. "The only thing that bothers me is that the three of you are going off for parts unknown, and I wasn't even a consideration. You get to go because you're the best friend. Ron gets to go because he's the best friend. I don't because I'm the little sister and the girlfriend - the one who needs to be protected and looked after. Do you know how much I hate that?"

Hermione nodded silently, wishing things could be different for Ginny. She knew how hard it was for her friend to be the 'baby', especially when she was not one any longer.

"I'm sorry," she repeated, getting up from her chair and sitting next to Ginny on the bed. "If it's any consolation, I wouldn't mind if you came with us."

"I know you wouldn't," Ginny said resignedly. "But the other two would probably pass out cold if you even mentioned it. Besides, you are all of age. I'm not going to be until November, and you'll already be gone by then."

"Is there anything I can do?" Hermione asked helplessly, putting her hand on Ginny's elbow. "Should I talk to Harry or Ron?"

"No," Ginny said quietly. "This is my stuff, and I'll have to deal with it. I'm sorry if I was rude before, but I can't seem to get myself under control about it just yet. Be patient with me, okay?"

Hermione nodded silently, wishing, not for the first time, that all of their lives were much simpler than all of this.

She left Ginny's room shortly after, heading for the kitchen to get a glass of water. The Burrow was growing warmer in the August sun, and her top was practically sticking to her back.

When she reached the kitchen, she found Ron sitting at the table with a sandwich in front of him.

"Hey," he said through a mouthful of peanut butter and jam. "I would've asked if you wanted any lunch, but Ginny's door was closed and I figured you two wanted some privacy."

She stared at him, wondering at the sudden thoughtfulness. Attributing it to the heat, she took the seat next to his and grabbed a chip off his plate.

"So, what did you guys talk about, anyway?" he asked, and Hermione rolled her eyes. She knew it was too good to be true.

"Nothing in particular," she said, evading the subject as best she could without lying. "She asked how my parents are dealing with everything, and we talked about that for a bit."

Ron stopped chewing suddenly, and he put down the remainder of his sandwich. "I totally forgot to ask," he said, swallowing thickly and turning to face her in his chair. "Are they going to let you go?"

_What a loaded question_, Hermione thought sadly. "They said that I was old enough to make up my own mind, and that if I felt that strongly about anything I would be miserable unless I did what I felt was right."

Ron nodded along with her speech, and when she finished, he smiled slightly. "Do you think you could get your parents to talk to mine about how to take things easily?"

"It was anything but easy," she said, staring down at her hands. "I don't think I've ever seen my mum cry as much as she did."

Ron's smile disappeared, and he cleared his throat. They sat in silence for a moment, before he cleared his throat again. "Uh, can I ask you something?"

"Of course," she said, raising her eyes to his. Something in his tone indicated the importance of whatever he was going to say, and it had her intrigued. The only time she ever heard Ron's voice like that was when he talked about the latest standings in professional Quidditch.

"How do you feel about going off with Harry, and all that?" he asked, almost too quickly for her to pick up on the words. She considered him for a minute, then shrugged.

"I know it's the right thing to do. I know that he's going to need us, and there's no way I would stay behind," she said simply.

Ron nodded again, but his eyes were clouded. He focused on a spot over her right shoulder, and Hermione knew that wasn't the answer he was looking for.

"Still," she continued, "I can't help feeling terrified and nervous. I mean, what are we going to do for shelter, and food…and how long are we going to be away…"

She watched as Ron's gaze came into clear focus once again, and a look of relief swept over his features. Their eyes locked onto each other's and she gave him a small smile, which he returned.

"I'm glad I'm not alone in this," he said, his shoulders relaxing before her eyes.

She felt like telling him he'd never be alone, if she had anything to do with it, but that kind of remark would land her back in a zone she was not willing to cross into right now. Instead, she stole another chip off his plate and rose to get herself a glass of water.

"So Harry and Ginny broke up, didn't they?" Ron asked as she poured the cool liquid into her glass.

She looked up in surprise at his intuitiveness so quickly that a bit of water sloshed onto the floor. "How did you know that?"

"If they hadn't, you would have said as much," he reasoned. "Because you didn't say anything, I sort of guessed the opposite."

"You can work out stuff like that, but you can't put together a proper essay to save your life?" she asked incredulously.

He shrugged, smiling at her. "I guess I'm getting better at some things. Maybe I don't have the emotional range of a teaspoon anymore, huh?"

And just like that, the ease she had begun to feel around him shattered as her mind wrapped itself around the one thought zipping through her head. He was better at some things because he'd taken up with another girl, and she'd taught him what it was like to be in a relationship.

"I suppose not," she said quickly, gripping her glass a little tighter.

"I swear, if he did anything to hurt her, I don't care if we're off to fight Voldemort or not…"

"Ron! You said Voldemort's name!" Hermione exclaimed, completely forgetting about all else.

He shrugged again. "I figure if I'm going to be going off on this thing, I could at least say his name."

She considered him for a moment, seeing things she had not seen before. The way he carried himself now, the straightness of his shoulders and his jaw. The determined glint in his eyes that didn't seem to diminish. It was as if he was changing right before her eyes, and she didn't know what to think of that. Perhaps Dumbledore's death had sobered him in ways that would manifest themselves for weeks to come.

She flashed quickly to the way he'd consoled her at Dumbledore's funeral, how carefully he'd held her and let her cry until there was nothing left. She remembered the wetness on his own cheeks and the look in his eyes when they'd broken apart.

Somewhere along the way, her best friend had started growing up.

She gave him a soft smile, sitting back down in the chair she'd vacated before. "I think it's a good step," she said with an affirming nod.

"So what happened between them?" he asked, after taking another bite of his sandwich. "He didn't hurt her or anything, did he?"

"No, it was nothing like that," she said quickly, not wanting there to be any weirdness between him and Harry when Harry arrived in a few days. After all, Ginny had said that she understood his reasons, and if they were good enough for Ginny, they would have to be good enough for anyone else. "Ginny said that Harry wanted to keep things simple for a while, you know, with everything that's going to be happening."

Ron nodded, considering her words. "Yeah, I guess that makes sense. I mean, after all, it's not like Harry will be coming back for birthdays and sending presents through the mail and such."

Hermione cringed inwardly at his words. He was right. There would be no casual visits home for any of them, and knowing now how Ginny felt, it only made her feel worse for her friend.

"Ron, you should talk to your sister about all of this," she said carefully. "I'm sure she's feeling left out of everything. She's the only one who isn't going and - "

"Damn right she's not going!" Ron interrupted forcefully. "She's only sixteen, and she can't apparate!"

"So what?" Hermione demanded, her anger rising more quickly than she thought possible. "She'll be seventeen in about three months, and as for apparating, you and Harry can't yet either!"

Ron grimaced at her. "Thanks for reminding me," he said coldly. "As if I could forget that I failed at that, too."

"Ron, this isn't about you," she spat, coming out of her chair again. What _was_ it about him that got her so worked up all the time? "It's about Ginny and how hurt and scared she is right now about us all going off into the unknown without her."

"Which is why it's better that she stays here where it's safe!" he insisted, pounding his palm on the table in emphasis.

"Well, if it's not safe for her, what makes it safe for us?" she asked, narrowing her eyes. "Why does she stay behind while we risk everything?"

"Because we're Harry's mates!" he shouted.

"She's his girlfriend!" she shouted back.

"Which is probably why he doesn't want her coming!" He came out of his own seat, and the two of them were practically glaring each other down now from less than two feet apart.

"That is the most insane logic," she spat back. "Harry cares about her, so she doesn't get to come. Harry cares about us, but we get to go."

"We're his mates, she's his girlfriend. There's a difference," he insisted vehemently. He folded his arms across his chest, very much in the same fashion as his sister had a while back.

"So you're saying that if you and I were going out, I wouldn't be allowed to come along either?" she yelled, past the point of all logic and reason now. She hadn't even registered her own words until she saw the look on his face change suddenly.

His eyes clouded over for the briefest of moments, and a flush crept into his cheeks quickly before it vanished again.

"Well, we're not going out, so that's beside the point," he said forcefully.

"You're impossible, you know that?" she accused loudly. "You refuse to see your sister as the grown woman she has become, and sooner or later, you're going to lose any kind of connection with her by babying her too much."

"Don't talk about me and my sister. Harry is doing this because he cares about her, and I happen to agree because I care about her, too," he retorted hotly.

"If you cared about her, you'd realize she's utterly miserable because of all this," she ground out through clenched teeth. "If you cared about her, you'd treat her fairly and remember she wants to keep us safe as much as we want to keep her safe."

Ron threw his hands up in the air helplessly. "I can't win here. Why do I even try?"

"I don't know, why do you?" she asked bitterly. "I suppose things were a lot easier when we weren't speaking to each other, weren't they?"

"No they weren't!" he bellowed loudly. "Things were bloody awful, and I know it was all my fault, just like everything is always my fault!"

The silence that enveloped the room seemed to take on a life of its own. It was a living, breathing thing that ate up moments in time and left nothing in its wake. The only thing that could be heard in the silence after Ron's outburst was his breathing, as he tried to calm himself down.

Hermione's heart went out to him then, as she watched him grapple with his emotions. For as much as she agreed that their row last year was mainly his fault, she hated seeing him shoulder all the blame for everything that had went wrong since they'd known each other.

"Not everything is your fault," she said in a quiet voice.

"Of course it is. That's why we're always at it, isn't it? You're always right, and I'm always wrong, but I keep pushing until something bad happens and then it's my fault," he said dully.

Hermione sank into the nearest chair, exhausted from their arguing. She was amazed at how he could take her to the limits of her patience, and then bring her back crashing down to Earth with one simple statement.

"You're not wrong about caring about your sister," she reasoned. "In fact, how much you care about people is one of your best qualities."

His eyes snapped to hers quickly, and she found herself blushing despite herself.

"It is?" he asked, gripping the back of the chair in front of him.

"It is," she said, averting her eyes to the table. For some reason, although the statement was entirely truthful and innocent, she felt as if she'd exposed a part of herself she was trying to keep from him.

"Well," he said into the silence that followed her words, "maybe I'll go up and talk to her, then."

Hermione smiled at her folded hands. "I think that would be nice."

They remained quiet for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Then, Ron pushed away from the chair he was holding onto and crossed to the doorway.

Before he disappeared through it, however, he turned around to face her.

"Hermione, do you really think it's that wrong to not want her to go along with us?" he asked.

Slowly she shook her head. "I don't think it's exactly wrong, but I know how I would feel if you and Harry decided that to keep me safe you would leave me behind."

Ron's eyes darkened considerably as he leaned against the doorframe watching her. "I know you're not my girlfriend, but if I'd thought it would do any good I'd have asked you to stay here at home about a thousand times by now."

Her eyes rose to meet his, where they were held captive for a very long moment.

Hermione's heart thudded painfully in her chest at his words. "But you knew it wouldn't do any good," she said, willing her voice to remain even.

"Yeah," he conceded, a sadness sweeping suddenly into his eyes. They remained like that, looking silently at each other for a few moments before Ron's gaze broke away and he looked up the stairs.

"You promise she's not going to tear my head off?" he asked lightly, although there was nothing light in the look on his face.

Hermione chuckled slightly, allowing the normalcy of their continuous rollercoaster of a relationship to wash over her once again. "I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

He pulled a face at her and with a sigh, headed up the stairs. Hermione watched him disappear around the corner with a surge of emotion so strong coursing through her that she reached for her water and drank it down as fast as she could.

**_I would like to add a personal dedication here if I may. This summer, four days before HBP came out, I lost my own personal Dumbledore. Nicholas Kline was my mentor and my good friend, and his passing has left a void that I fear will never be filled. He taught me many things and allowed me to learn by my own mistakes while being there the whole time to make sure that if I fell, it wouldn't be too far or too hard._**

_**I will miss him for all that he was to the people he loved, and I will remember everything he tried to show me about life and how to care for those we surround ourselves with. I only hope that in the end, I can make him proud in how I choose to live my life and follow my own destiny. **_

_**He knew how much I loved HP, and I think he would have found it ironic that he and Dumbledore left this world at around the same time. That was just the kind of man he was. **_

_**I will miss them both. **_


	2. A Time For Confessions

**Invisible Scars**

_**I just want to thank all of you for your amazingly kind words regarding the passing of my friend. I would also like to thank you for taking the time out to review my work. It really is the only motivation I have to keep working on this. Keep reading, and keep reviewing!**_

**Chapter 2 – A Time for Confessions**

Hermione had been right. As usual. After his conversation with his sister, Ron felt much better about things. He knew now why she'd been so quiet and reserved all summer, and he understood how she felt about what they all were going to be facing sooner than they were prepared for. They had come to a tentative understanding of things, and although Ginny still looked hurt that she wouldn't be included in the impending adventure, they recognized each other's positions on the matter and considered it closed.

Ron was preparing to join Hermione downstairs when Ginny stopped him at the door.

"Ron, I've been meaning to apologize to you," she called out, causing him to turn to her with a confused expression on his face.

"What for?" he asked.

Ginny looked chagrined as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Last year, when you and Harry caught me and Dean in the corridor," she said, shrugging to hide her obvious discomfort at bringing up the subject with him, "I was really angry with you for getting all big-brother. I never meant to take it as far as I did, especially in front of Harry."

Ron felt the grip of embarrassment take hold over him so swiftly that he didn't see it coming. To hear how 'practiced' everyone else was while he himself had never kissed a girl had been the main reason he'd gone after Lavendar in the first place. It had been the reason Hermione had refused to speak to him for over half a year, and the reason they were back to square one now.

Still, he couldn't fault his sister now that they had patched things up. She was apologizing, after all. Besides, there were so many other things to worry about now; the row almost seemed silly in comparison.

"S'okay," he said, reassuring her with a small smile. "I shouldn't've said anything about you and Dean in the first place. You're old enough to make up your own mind about things, and I guess that has to include boys and such." The effect of the statement would have been stronger, he realized, if he was able to say it without grimacing.

Ginny must have realized this as well, for she laughed at his expression and shook her head. "I'm glad you think so," she said, bemused.

"Yeah, well, I better get back to Hermione," he said, trying his best to shake the image of his sister dating a string of blokes from his mind.

"Actually, that's why I apologized in the first place," Ginny said, giving him another embarrassed look. "Hermione. I hadn't realized that she had asked you to Slughorn's party. If I had, I never would have brought up Viktor Krum. I did it to hurt you, because I knew how jealous you get whenever his name is mentioned." When he flinched slightly, she raised an eyebrow. "See?"

"Whatever, Ginny. It's over, and I accept your apology," he said, hoping the conversation was over. He hated hearing that great oaf's name.

Ginny grew quiet for a moment, then stared at him so intently that he felt as if he was rooted to the spot.

"I mean, it must have taken a great deal of courage for her to ask you in the first place," she said casually. "After all, you two being best friends and all, it was almost like a date."

Ron's heart began beating in an unnatural rhythm. The thought had crossed his mind, of course, but he'd worked hard to convince himself that she simply took pity on him because he was the one being left out of things. If it had been an actual date…

"Of course, I had to ruin things for you and tease you about your inexperience," Ginny said, shaking her head at her own behavior. "Because of me, you started snogging Lavendar, and Hermione had to watch as the guy she trusted most in the world took her invitation and tossed it back in her face. It must have been mortifying for her."

The unnatural rhythm turned into no rhythm at all. In fact, he could barely breathe around the tight constriction of his chest. Hermione had been courageous enough to make the first move, and he'd spent the week snubbing her because of Krum and kissing another girl right in front of her face as often as he could.

If he hadn't known it before, he knew it now. He was the world's biggest git. On top of that, he didn't deserve Hermione. Even if she ever forgave him for his tasteless behavior, he didn't know if he could forgive himself. He had known, on some level, that he had hurt her last year. What he was only starting to realize now was how much.

His shoulders sagged of their own accord, and he slumped against the door. "Why is she still friends with me?" he asked sullenly. It was a question he had asked himself a thousand times in the past, but now he really needed an answer.

Ginny apparently took pity on him, for she crossed to where he stood and leaned up against the door next to him.

"She's still friends with you because she cares about you," she said, nudging him with her elbow. "She's still friends with you because you've always been there to protect her and stick up for her when others tried to take her down. You accept her for the brilliant, bossy, stubborn person she is, and you never want anything more from her than for her to be herself."

Ron huffed, but otherwise remained silent. A million thoughts were zipping about in his head, and they all consisted of times when he'd fought with her or made her upset or angry. Their relationship was so rocky that at times it barely resembled a friendship. How was it possible that they were still together, after all that had passed between them?

"You know it's not too late, don't you?" Ginny asked, breaking into his thoughts.

"Too late for what?" Ron asked gloomily. Visions of violent rows in public were swarming before his eyes.

"Tell her why you snubbed her after her invitation to the party. Tell her why you took up with Lavendar in the first place," Ginny explained, crossing her arms over her chest. "Most of all, tell her you're sorry."

"Do I have to?" he asked, suddenly terrified that Ginny was expecting him to have an emotional exorcism of all of his feelings with the one girl he was avoiding being emotional around. "I mean, we're actually getting along just fine right now. She's not angry with me, so bringing all of that up would kind of mess things up for no reason."

Ginny sighed heavily, much like Hermione did when she was tired of trying to explain something to him. "She may not be mad at you, but she probably thinks about this quite often. You were carrying on with someone right under her nose for the better portion of a year, Ron. How would you have felt if the situation was reversed?"

He didn't even want to think of it. When Hermione had announced her date with McLaggen for Slughorn's holiday party, he had seen red for the rest of the day. He wasn't able to concentrate on anything for more than a few seconds, because visions of Hermoine wrapped in another guy's arms infiltrated his every thought. His body had been so tightly wound all day that he had finally taken his broom out to the pitch to fly for a solid hour before he felt even half-human again.

Even now, thinking of some faceless bloke putting his hands on her caused his own hands to ball into tight fists at his sides.

"I get your point," he said resignedly. "What if I talk to her after the wedding?"

"Why wait?" Ginny said quickly. "Why not ask her to go to the wedding with you?"

Ron stared at his sister with a blank look. "But she's already going, Gin. Wouldn't that be a bit redundant?"

Ginny rolled her eyes in exasperation and pushed away from the door. "Bless that poor girl," she said under her breath. Turning to face him, she pinned him against the wall with her gaze.

"Ron, if you ask her to the wedding, even though she's already going," she added with another roll of her eyes, "it serves as a gesture. You know, she asked you the first time – which didn't go all that well – and now you're asking to try and make up for things."

Ron considered his sister's words carefully. Could he do it? Could he ask Hermione to go to Bill's wedding with him? Just the thought caused his mouth to dry up and his still balled up fists to start sweating.

"I'll think about it," he finally managed. He was saved from any further thoughts by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. They grew quiet in case it was Hermione, but their mother peeked her head around the doorframe a moment later.

"There you two are," she huffed slightly. "Why on Earth are the two of you hiding away up here when Hermione's downstairs all alone? Is that any way to treat a guest?"

"Hermione's not a guest, mum," Ron said, thinking how weird that sounded. Hermione had been coming to their house for so long that she seemed like she just naturally belonged at the Burrow.

"She most certainly is," their mother scoffed. "That's beside the point, anyway. I need you two ready to go in about ten minutes," she said, searching in her bag for something. "We're going to Diagon Alley to pick up your robes for the wedding."

"Do we have to go?" Ginny asked, her face pulling tightly into a look of annoyance as it had become accustomed to doing at the mere mention of the big day.

"Of course you do!" Mrs. Weasley barked, leaving no room for argument. "You have to try them on to make sure they're perfect, and then you have to pick out shoes."

"Can we stop by Fred and George's while we're there?" Ron asked, realizing it had been a very long time since he'd seen his brothers. The last time he'd talked to them was at Dumbledore's funeral…

Something in his mother's face softened a bit, and she almost smiled. "I suppose we could if we get everything else done quickly and with as little drama as possible," she conceded. "Now, get going so we can leave."

* * *

Hermione couldn't help but be amused as she watched Ginny and Ron suffer through their final fittings for the wedding. Ginny was standing with her hands on her hips, glaring at the seamstress as she fixed the hem with her wand. Hermione didn't quite understand why Ginny was so miserable; the robes looked amazing on her. They were of a soft, shimmery golden material that floated about her as she turned this way and that. Hermione smiled to herself when she thought of Harry's reaction to his girlfriend – well, ex-girlfriend – striding down the lawn of the Burrow in the summer sunlight.

Ginny, however, didn't look as if she was harboring any such thoughts about her appearance. She was now scowling at the top of the seamstress' head while the older woman prattled on about the right shoes to wear to accentuate the robes.

"I'm wearing my trainers," Ginny mumbled, earning a severely reproachful look from her mother, who was hovering only inches away from the mirror in front of Ginny.

"You will do no such thing," Mrs. Weasley affirmed, and, considering the matter handled, turned her attention to the curtain behind which Ron had not yet emerged.

"Ron, if you'd wanted to see your brothers, you'd be out by now. Stop this foolishness and come out of there!" she beckoned, none too gently.

Hermione heard him groan loudly before obeying his mother a moment later and appearing from behind the curtain.

She allowed herself a moment to freely look him over. She figured that she'd been good up until now and deserved to treat herself to a good, long look. Besides the fact that his face was screwed up into a disapproving fashion, he was simply dashing.

The robes were of a simple black material, as were all the robes of the Weasley men, but somehow, Hermione didn't think they'd look half as good on any of the rest of the lot as they did on him. His set was trimmed in an intricate silver, and was fitted to his frame quite perfectly in her opinion.

In the robes she could see, just as she had when she'd entered his room earlier that day, the expanse of his broadening chest and the strength of his shoulders. Somehow, she knew that she would never badmouth Quidditch again.

His eyes met hers, and she looked away quickly. She could feel the heat on her face and willed it away.

"Oh, Ron," Mrs. Weasley said in a soft tone, "You have never looked more like your father than you do right now."

Ron made a face, and Hermione guessed that the compliment went over his head. She laughed, which was probably not the best thing to do.

"I told you," he grumbled, his hands moving as if to rip the garment into shreds. "I look ridiculous, don't I?" He glanced at his sister and the scowl lessened a bit. "Wow, Gin, you look great."

Ginny shot him an evil look before grinning wickedly. "And you look like a vicar."

Hermione sat back and watched as the Weasleys began a heated argument of insults and retributions in the small confines of the shop. By the end of it, only she and the seamstress looked as if they would be speaking to one another.

Twenty exhausting minutes later, they exited the shop and headed for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Hermione noticed that the streets were uncommonly empty for this time of day over a summer holiday. In fact, she began to feel the absence of others very acutely as they made their way past the shops. Usually Diagon Alley was teeming with people of all ages, hustling to and fro between the assorted shops getting everyday errands accomplished. Now, however, there only seemed to be about a dozen or so people besides themselves out and about.

Hermione gave an involuntary shudder, and she caught Ron looking at her out of the corner of his eye.

"A bit spooky, isn't it?" he said, nodding at the desolate stretch that lay before them.

She nodded, not in the least surprised that he could sense exactly what she was thinking. They made a quick stop at Ollivanders to drop off their wands before continuing on their way. Both she and Ron had decided that it was wise to get their wands thoroughly cleaned and checked over before going off with Harry in a couple of weeks. The thought further served to depress her and Hermione found herself staring blankly at the cobblestones laid out under her feet.

By the time they'd reached the twins' store, she was ready for any silly experiment the twins could throw at them. She needed to feel something other than the sense of imminent doom that had shrouded the once lively little town.

"Well, look what we have here!"

George's voice greeted them the moment they entered the shop. Mrs. Weasley went about kissing her sons and fussing over the length of their hair before Hermione had even cleared the doorway.

"To what do we owe the pleasure?" Fred asked, extracting himself from his mother to give his sister a playful tap on her nose.

"Fittings for the wedding robes," Ron muttered, swatting George's hand away from his hair. "And don't think you two are getting out of it. Mum says you have to go after work."

"Already went, dear brother," George exclaimed, bowing to his mother. "After all, her wish is our command."

Mrs. Weasley looked as if she wanted to say a million things in that moment, but settled on, "Well then how about I just trim a bit with my wand while we visit…"

"Hermione!" Fred exclaimed, choosing to ignore his mother's pointed comment as he took up her hand in his. "As always, a vision of loveliness," he proclaimed, kissing the back of her hand soundly. Hermione giggled, fighting to extract her hand.

"Every time I think you two can't possibly get any sillier, you go and prove me wrong," she said, as George took up her other hand to kiss it.

"We Weasley men simply have manners, my dear girl," George insisted, shooting Ron a short look. "Well, most of us."

Ron scowled at his brothers openly as he moved closer to Hermione's side. "And some of us have a gag reflex," he said.

Fred's eyes danced as he shot George a mischievous look. "See, George, and you said he was too thick." George shrugged and released Hermione's hand.

"So, little brother, guess who was in here just last week," he said, waggling his eyebrows at Ron. "One Ms. Lavendar Brown, but I'm sorry to say that the bloke who was with her was most decidedly not you."

Ron shrugged noncommittally, which made Hermione's pulse begin to race wildly. He seemed thoroughly unaffected by this news, and it made her happier than she'd been all afternoon. "So?" he said, staring blankly at the twins.

George looked mildly surprised for a moment, but then his eyes swept over to Hermione and he grinned at Fred. "I take it back. Looks like the lad finally wised up."

Mrs. Weasley called to her sons just then, leaving Ron and Hermione to stand there in a mildly uncomfortable silence. Ron was glaring at his brother's backs, and Hermione took the opportunity to study him again. If he really didn't care that Lavendar was running about with someone new…

"Why I wanted to come here is beyond me," Ron muttered, moving past her and walking down the center aisle.

"They're your brothers and they make us laugh," Hermione reasoned with him, walking along with him. "Besides, you needed something to cheer you up after your robe-fitting."

"So it was really terrible, wasn't it?" he asked, an embarrassed look flashing across his face. "You can be honest. I _did_ look like a vicar, didn't I?"

Hermione laughed, and immediately realizing that was the wrong thing to do, she stopped. "You looked nothing of the sort. In fact, I thought you looked quite handsome."

He gave her a disbelieving look out of the corner of his eye, but she noticed the faintest of smiles on his face. "Whatever. At least I only have to wear them once."

George walked up to them then, motioning Ron to follow him. They walked to the very back of the store and Hermione could see a small metal door partially hidden behind a tapestry.

"I don't want mum to know about our secret room," George said, dropping his voice conspiratorially. "We have quite a few inventions back here that won't properly introduce themselves into polite society."

Ron perked up immediately, and although she had a bad feeling about it, Hermione followed. Within the small room, there were multitudes of shelves stocked with more than Hermione could take in at one glance.

"There must be hundreds of things back here," she said, looking up to the ceiling only to find that where the proper ceiling should be, there was nothing but loaded shelves for at least fifty yards up.

"We've been mighty busy," George confided. "Now that You Know Who has made his move, we've realized that novelties and toys weren't the only things we were good at making. There's loads of stuff back here that might be useful to anyone who needed a hand here and there." He gave them both a pointed look. "I suggest you two take a good look around and I'll keep mum distracted. Maybe I'll set a Shrieking Snafflewegg loose for a couple of minutes."

"By the way," he added, turning around suddenly and searching them with his eyes, "did you two lose your wands?"

"They're getting checked out at Ollivander's," Ron replied, deeply engrossed in a box that didn't seem to have any lid or opening.

Hermione wondered at the playful look that sprang into George's eyes, but she assumed that he'd try to sneak fake wands onto them at some point in their visit and turned her attention to a particularly long chain with a pyramid fastened to it.

"Well, you two just have yourselves a grand old time, then," George purred as he exited the room and pulled the door firmly closed behind him.

They busied themselves for several minutes with the gadgets on the bottom shelves. Neither spoke, but it was a comfortable silence born from years of friendship. Hermione had just discovered a shiny pair of what appeared to be ordinary cufflinks when Ron swore loudly and jumped away from the wall he was examining.

"What is it?" she asked, alarmed at the terrified look on his face. Knowing the twins, it could be just about anything.

"Spiders," he replied, his voice growing hoarse and strained. "Must be a dozen of 'em."

Hermione looked past his shoulder and saw that there were indeed about a dozen tiny spiders crawling over the shelf and into one of the inventions. She pulled his arm and switched places with him, positioning herself between the spiders and him.

"There. Feel better?" she asked.

He shook his head and turned for the door. "I think I've had about enough for the day."

He turned the old knob on the rusted door, but it didn't budge. He tried again, grunting a bit this time from the effort he exerted. Still nothing.

Suddenly Hermione knew exactly why George had asked them if they had their wands. "I don't believe it," she said quietly, as Ron instinctively reached into his back pocket for his wand.

"Bloody hell," he swore, coming up empty. He glared at the door as if he could tear it down by the sheer will of his anger. Then he whipped around to face her. "Still think they're amusing?"

"Ron, it'll be fine. Your mum will begin to wonder where we've gotten off to sooner than later. She's been watching us like hawks all day," she reasoned gently.

"I wouldn't bet on it," he grumbled, turning again and raising his fist. "But she sure as hell will come if I start pounding on the door like mad."

Hermione reached out to grab his arm before he could drop his fist onto the door. "You don't want to get the twins in trouble, do you?"

"What do I care if mum chews them out for a solid year?" he exclaimed, gesturing around him. "If you hadn't noticed, we're locked in a room about the size of a closet, with who knows what crawling all over."

Hermione sighed and tugged on his arm to bring him away from the door. "The twins are infuriating, but they have a point. We will need all the help we can get to do what we're going to do this year. Maybe they really have something that will be of some use, and if your mum finds all this, she'll probably turn it in to the Ministry."

Ron finally ceased his struggles with her and sank back against one of the walls, sliding to the ground. "What was it like being an only child?" he asked morosely.

She smiled at him and took a seat on the floor across from him. Their knees were almost lined up the room was so narrow. "You wouldn't want to be an only child," she said assertively. "Very lonely business."

Ron closed his eyes, leaned his head against the wall and sighed. "Sounds wonderful."

"So did you find anything you thought might be useful to us this year?" she asked, searching the high shelves with her eyes.

He shook his head. "I don't know. None of the stuff had directions with them, and I'm not stupid enough to try anything without knowing what it does first. Learned my lesson well enough last year."

Hermione was instantly transported back to the moment Ginny had run up to her to tell her that Ron was in the hospital wing and that it didn't look good. Her chest constricted so tightly that her vision blurred, and when it cleared, Ron was studying her face.

"What is it?" he asked, concern evident in his tone.

"Nothing," she said, cursing the small confines of the space. He could always read her, and at this close proximity, she didn't have a chance to hide anything.

"Don't say that," he argued lightly, "you just went as white as a ghost."

Hermione took a deep, steadying breath and knew that she had two options. She could lie and explain it away with something as flimsy as a fear of enclosed spaces, or she could tell him what it had been like to see him lying in that hospital bed, unconscious and pale.

She shrugged slowly, averting her eyes to the locked door. "I was just remembering what you looked like in the hospital wing," she said, struggling to keep her voice even. "It was pretty scary."

His eyebrows raised slightly at her words. "Was it really?"

"Of course it was," she said forcefully. "Seeing one's best mate lying unconscious in the hospital is not something anyone wants to see. Wasn't it scary for you?"

He considered her words. "Well, not really. I mean, when I felt my throat closing up that was terrifying, but once I couldn't breathe I don't remember anything. The only thing I do remember is Harry shoving something down my throat and yelling a lot." He paused, looking as if he was traveling back to the exact moment. He scrunched up his nose at the memory. "That bezoar tasted bloody awful from what I can recall."

"I don't care how it tasted," she asserted in a low voice. "It saved your life."

"Yeah, well, that and Harry," he said, staring at the wall above her shoulder. "And you, too," he added, his voice dipping slightly.

"Me?" she asked, surprised. "What did I do?"

A smile creased his face briefly. "All I could think about was how furious you'd be with me for eating something I knew I shouldn't have touched…how long you'd yell at me for being so stupid. I couldn't miss a row like that, could I?"

She stared at him as if he was completely out of his mind. "Are you kidding me?"

He shook his head and laughed. "Nope. Hey, don't knock it. I survived, didn't I?"

"You are unbelievable," she muttered under her breath, causing him to laugh again.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

They lapsed into a silence, each lost in their own thoughts. Then Ron cleared his throat and began pulling at a loose thread at the base of his t-shirt. "Speaking of last year, there's something that I've wanted to clear up with you."

Hermione's breath caught in her chest. Somehow, she knew what he was going to bring up, and she didn't think that talking about what almost happened between them in an enclosed, intimate space was the best thing.

"I say leave last year where it is. It's not healthy to dwell in the past," she said quickly, shifting on the floor uncomfortably. Ron's gaze swung up to meet hers, and she saw an expression in them that she couldn't quite figure out.

"I don't think so," he said evenly. His tone was so definite and final that she knew there would be no dissuading him. She sighed inwardly and prepared herself for the onslaught of emotions that would surely bombard her once he began speaking about Lavendar and the disastrous year they suffered through because of her.

He cleared his throat again and his expression changed to one of mild discomfort. "Last year, Harry and I caught Ginny snogging Dean in a corridor and I kind of lost it," he said, scowling slightly at the memory. "She wasn't too happy about that, so she started in on me and how little, uh, experience I had compared to everyone else." He trailed off for a moment, the look of discomfort growing rapidly across his features.

"Let's just say I didn't take it all that well," he said in a low voice, averting his eyes to the wall again. "So when Lavendar started paying attention to me, I just thought that maybe it was my turn to, you know, be with someone."

Hermione forced herself to attempt to breathe normally, but it was very difficult seeing as how her chest felt as if was being squeezed in a vice. She couldn't help but wonder if they had gone to the party together, if she would have been the one he would have shared his first kiss with.

"Why were you so mean to me before that, though?" she asked, wondering how she had even had the presence of mind to form a coherent sentence at this point.

His eyes darkened intensely, although he still wouldn't look at her. "That's the other part I wanted to apologize for," he said quickly. "Ginny mentioned how you and Krum…"

He didn't finish his thought, however, and took to staring even harder at the wall.

Hermione closed her eyes briefly. She wished that she'd never encouraged Viktor's attentions to her back in her fourth year. All it had done was create misunderstandings between her and Ron that had lasted a lot longer than the short relationship with Viktor had. They were still friends, of course, but perhaps that's all she should have sought with him in the first place. Still, to be fair, she allowed herself, back in fourth year she wasn't as sure as she was now that she fancied Ron as much as she did. She was young, inexperienced, and a popular and attentive Quidditch star had wanted to be with her. What had been so wrong with what she'd done?

"Look, I'm not making excuses," he finally continued, although his voice had not yet returned to normal. "I'm just saying that you know how I've always felt about him, and to hear that you and he had…well, I guess I didn't handle things all that well." He tugged especially hard at the thread he'd been playing with and it gave way with an audible snap. "I'm sorry for how I acted toward you afterwards," he said apologetically.

"It's in the past, Ron," she repeated. She pulled her knees into her chest almost as a protective barrier between them. Her heart was racing out of control now, her head swirling around all the missed possibilities and possibilities yet to come. She was so confused, and it wasn't helping that they were only mere inches from each other.

"I know it is, but I really would have liked to go to Slughorn's party with you," he said, his ears reddening slightly. "I blew it by taking up with Lavendar, and I'm sorry for that, too."

Hermione felt as if there were a million live snakes writhing about in her stomach. He had wanted to go to the party with her. He was sorry. He wasn't dating Lavendar anymore. Could this be his way of initiating things? Was she finished waiting for him to be ready?

She studied his face carefully, and forced herself not to look away when he finally met her gaze. They stared at each other for a moment, in which the air in the small room became charged and heavy with unspoken sentiments.

Suddenly, his eyes widened, and his face became pale. In the next instant, he was kicking out against the wall she was leaning against, and she turned just in time to see an enormous spider fly from the top of his trainer to the wall and get ceremoniously squashed under his flailing legs. She let out a nervous laugh, which felt good amid the tremendous tension that had sprung up between them.

Her laughter was cut short, however, when the shelf above her began to shake from the force of Ron's feet against the wall, and a large, heavy, wooden artifact fell atop her head and caused her to shout out in pain.

Ron's eyes immediately left the squashed spider and the color rushed back to his face as he sprang to his knees to get closer to her.

"Are you alright? I'm so sorry, Hermione," he said, trying to move her hands away from the back of her head to look at the spot where the heavy object had struck. She fought back the sting of tears that had leapt to her eyes, and tried to nod her head. This only caused her to let out a small gasp of pain that had Ron forcing her chin up so she would look at him.

"Let me see," he said gently, finally succeeding in moving her hands away from her head. With one hand he cradled her face as the other searched the back of her head for signs of a serious injury. She watched his face through watery eyes, not so hurt that she missed the look of gentleness that was displayed across his face as he set about his business.

It was not lost on her how close they were now. She was pinned against the wall by his body, which was edging closer with every second he inspected her wound. His neck was exposed as he strained to see the back of her head, and she wanted nothing more than to nestle her face in the crook between it and his shoulder and stay there forever.

With her emotions already spiraling past her control, she watched his face in mild fascination as he ran his fingers over her hair softly.

"I only feel a small bump," he said, his hand brushing her hair back into place. "You're not bleeding, so it didn't break the skin." He dropped his hand from her face to her elbow, cupping it protectively as he settled back on his heels and searched her face. "Are you having trouble seeing or anything?"

"No," she whispered, realizing that she was seeing exceptionally clearly for the first time in a long time. He was still looking her over for any signs of injury, but when he appeared to satisfy himself, his gaze flickered back to hers.

Their eyes didn't waver from each other's as they both realized how close they were sitting. Ron's chest began rising and falling more quickly, as did Hermione's when she saw his head drop the slightest fraction of an inch closer to her.

She forced herself not to move. She wasn't going to back away this time. Whatever happened would happen, and she would deal with it later. Still, it didn't help matters when his eyes darkened and focused on her mouth. Every muscle in her body called out to her to bolt, but she remained rooted to the spot. The only thing she couldn't control was the impulse to bite her bottom lip in nervousness.

Ron's eyes flashed and his hand began to move slowly up her arm. Hermione's eyes began to drift closed of their own accord, and she found herself floating in a haze somewhere between reality and every daydream she'd had for the better part of a year.

She was sure that any moment she'd feel Ron's mouth against hers. Which is why she practically came out of her skin when she heard the grinding of the rusty door as it was yanked open from the outside.

Ron sprang to his feet with an agility that impressed her, considering the circumstances. He stood face to face with George, who wore an expression of infinite glee openly on his face.

"Mum heard a crash," he said, looking over the small space quickly to assess any damage. Then he turned to face them with sparkling eyes. "So, did you two find anything productive in here?" he asked cheekily, ribbing Ron with his elbow. Ron's eyes narrowed at his brother as he extended his hand to Hermione to help her up.

"For your information, your damned inventions came crashing down on her, and if she's got a concussion, I promise you I'll destroy every last one of them," Ron spat, shoving George to the side.

George let them out and locked the door behind them before touching Hermione's shoulder. "Are you alright?" he asked, all signs of playfulness gone from his face.

"I'm fine, George, although I don't think it was very funny to lock us in there," she chastised lightly. In truth, she wanted to grab George and kiss him soundly for forcing the two of them to finally face each other without distraction.

"I know. I'm sorry," George apologized, patting her softly. "I'll make it up to you. Anything you two need from in there, you take free of charge."

"We don't even know what any of that stuff is used for," Ron argued, not nearly as easily assuaged as Hermione. "It all looks like a pile of rubbish to me."

George looked extremely offended, but then smiled at his brother. "I'll tell you what. Come back when Harry gets here, and Fred and I will close down the shop and give you lot a demonstration of it all."

Ron appeared incredibly wary of this gesture, but Hermione agreed and began walking toward the front of the shop. Ron caught up to her halfway up the aisle and stopped her.

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, his eyes focused on hers. "Do you want some ice or something?"

"I'm fine for now," she said, her hand automatically going to the back of her head. "I'll just take it easy when we get back to the Burrow and put some ice on it there."

Ron nodded and looked over to where his mother and Ginny were examining a crate of expandable pocketbooks. "Um…I wanted to ask you something," he said, suddenly looking as if he had swallowed a whole fistful of bezoars. He cleared his throat and continued, shakily. "I was wondering if you wanted to go with me to the wedding."

If the ground had opened up underneath her and Voldemort himself appeared out of the gaping hole, Hermione would have been less surprised than she was right now. "The…the wedding?" she asked, stumbling over the idea of being invited to a wedding that she was already invited to.

Then, with much more force than the falling object in the back room, Ron's question came crashing down on top of her. It was a gesture. In fact, it was _the_ gesture. She had asked first; now it was his turn. And he had risen to the occasion brilliantly.

She found herself smiling at him with almost uncontrollable happiness. "I would love to go to the wedding with you," she said softly. His expression slid from one of nervous tension to relief so quickly that Hermione laughed.

"Alright then," he said, smiling at her. "It's settled then."

It sure was, she thought to herself. They had taken that invisible first step, and hopefully this time, there would be no misunderstandings stopping them from taking the second one.

_**This is so not over, so don't think that we're done here. Much, much, much more angsty goodness to follow. Harry will arrive in the next chapter toward the end, and we have stuff to do with him and Ginny. Ron and Hermione are going to start trying to figure out just exactly what a relationship would be like for the two of them. Oooh, I'm getting so many good ideas. I'm excited about this, and I hope you are too! Keep reading, and I hope everyone is happy, healthy and safe.**_


	3. Small Steps

**Invisible Scars**

_**Once again, thank you for your encouragement. I know that you don't have to take the time out of your days to write anything in response to this, and that knowledge makes it all the more special that you do.**_

**Chapter 3 – Small Steps**

After tossing and turning half the night, Ron figured he finally fell asleep somewhere around 3 a.m. Which is why, at noon, when his mother woke him with a not-so-gentle banging on his door, he immediately felt disoriented and far from rested.

"Ronald Weasley, get out of that bed this instant!" his mother yelled through the heavy door. "The girls have been up for hours now, and it's rude to have Hermione sitting around waiting for you to get up!"

Ron grumbled moodily and rolled over to cover his ears with his pillow. Hermione was the reason he'd gotten to sleep so late in the first place. All he could think about, from the second his head hit the pillow, was how he'd almost kissed her in the twins' shop and how she'd said yes to his invitation to the wedding.

Just thinking about it now had his mind whirling. Sitting up, he realized that whatever they had started was going to cost him a good amount of sleep for a while. It was impossible to stay still and not think about her. The second he was quiet he began thinking about all of the things he wanted to say to her. The second he stopped moving, he realized he was thinking of how much he wanted to kiss her, how much he wanted to feel her up against him…

Groaning, he pushed himself out of bed and forced himself to get moving. He showered quickly and met his mother down in the kitchen.

"Where's Hermione and Ginny?" he asked, helping himself to a tall glass of juice. It was going to be another scalding hot day; he could feel it already.

"Ginny went to the Ministry with your father, and Hermione's in the backyard," his mother said disapprovingly. "You really should treat her better while she's a guest at our home."

"Mum, Hermione's been coming here since we were eleven. She knows her way around," he said, shoving an apple in his mouth.

"I still think it's incredibly rude," she snapped, looking out the window to where he assumed Hermione was sitting. "Don't take her for granted, Ron. She's such a wonderful young lady, and if she doesn't feel appreciated…"

Ron almost choked on the bit of apple he had swallowed. If his mother knew how much he was 'appreciating' Hermione, she wouldn't be so quick to try and push the two of them together.

"Why did Ginny go in with dad?" he asked, picking up an extra apple.

"Well, she said she was interested in some Ministry positions, and I guess she figured that she could check things out a bit from the inside," his mother said, busying herself with a long list of wedding preparations. "I'm glad at least someone in this house is thinking of the future."

Ron sighed inwardly. He wanted to tell his mother about his upcoming plans so badly that it almost caused an ache in his chest, but he had promised himself he'd wait until after Bill's wedding. He didn't want anything ruining this for his brother, or his parents.

"When's she getting back?" he asked, glancing at the clock which showed the entire family in mortal peril. "Harry's going to be here for dinner."

"She'll be back by then," his mother smiled, obviously not kept up to speed about the breakup. "She wouldn't miss a second of Harry's visit if she could help it."

Ron smiled at his mother and made his way out into the backyard. A wall of heat hit him the moment he opened the back door, and in about ten seconds, felt as if his shirt was suffocating him. He spotted Hermione sitting under a large tree, taking advantage of the shade it produced to read an exceptionally large book that was propped against her knees.

He took a minute to simply take in the sight of her. She looked so relaxed sitting against the tree. Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but even from where he stood, Ron could see that some of the curls had managed to escape. He smiled when she absently reached up and tucked a loose strand behind her ear. His eyes traveled down to take in the rest of her, and if he hadn't been sweating already, he would have been after his quick perusal. She was wearing a light tank top and shorts due to the unbearable heat, and more skin was showing than he thought healthy for his sanity.

Suddenly, he very much wanted to be next to her, and found his feet moving of their own will toward her.

"Morning," he called out as he approached.

She looked up at the sound of his voice with a smile already pulling at her lips. "Afternoon, is more like it," she teased, squinting up at him.

"What are you reading?" he asked, sinking onto the grass next to her. "We're not even going to be in school this year, so don't tell me it's a textbook."

"Actually, it is," she said, closing the book so he could see the cover. "I figured we needed a place to start looking for these horcruxes, and with no one around to give us any information, I thought the best place to start would be books about major historical events in the wizarding world."

"You're amazing, you know that?" he commented as he glanced at the cover illustration. "Leave it to you to already be five steps ahead of us."

Hermione glowed with pride at his words before opening the book to the page she'd left off with and devoted her attention to it once again. "This is going to be so much harder than we thought," she said, her mood suddenly shifting into one of thoughtful seriousness. "I mean, with Dumbledore gone, we are literally on our own with this. We won't be able to go to anyone for advice on where to look, how to do this, what we do once we've got them, how to destroy them…"

"Hermione," he interrupted, putting his hand over hers on the open page. She looked down at their hands and then at his face, which was beginning to flush from the small contact. Still, he didn't want to remove his hand just yet.

"Everything is going to be okay," he said, with much more confidence than he felt. "The three of us will just have to sit down and figure this out. We'll be fine, just like we always are. Let's face it…we've made it this far, what's one more adventure?" he said casually, patting the back of her hand in reassurance.

She sat back, carefully studying him as he spoke. Her hand twisted until it was resting, palm against palm, under his. "How do you do that?" she asked.

"Do what?" he fairly croaked. His throat was now dry and constricted, and he was surprised he could speak at all.

"How do you make everything seem so simple and so…I don't know…possible all the time?" she asked, tucking another curl behind her ear with her free hand.

His eyes followed the movement, allowing himself a bit of time to digest her words. Did he really do that for her? His chest swelled slightly, but he shrugged as if it was no big deal. "I guess because I see things as simple all the time. You look for the difficult stuff, and figure out ways around it. That's what you do. I try and figure out the easiest way around it."

Hermione laughed, sending a jolt through him as if he'd touched another one of those blasted brains. "Night and day," she said, squeezing his hand lightly.

A silence fell over them then, not necessarily uncomfortable, but in it, Ron tried desperately to figure out what the next move was. Here they were, still holding hands, more than friends but not quite anything else yet.

He cleared his throat and gestured at the book. "So, did you find anything useful yet?" The second he said it, he wanted to dash his head against the tree behind him. He should have told her how nice she looked, or said something about their…moment…yesterday in the storage room.

She released his hand and brought the book to rest more solidly up against her knees. He immediately missed the feeling of her hand in his, but she inched a bit closer to him so he could see the book as well. He caught the scent of her hair as she moved, and smiled despite himself.

"There wasn't much in the first portion of the book, but I've found some interesting stuff in these two chapters," she said, flipping the pages expertly. "They contain information about legendary places throughout western Europe and a few in the south as well. There was even an entire chapter on enchanted objects that seemed to defy all charm-breaking spells and counter-jinxes."

Ron peered at the book and all he could see was an astounding mass of words all jumbled together onto a page. He would never understand Hermione's fascination with the written word, but he was thankful for it. He knew that without her, none of the things he'd seen up until now would have had a ended well in the slightest.

He shifted closer so he could see better when she pointed out a particular area on the page, and his arm brushed hers. They were now sitting so close that their bodies were touching in several places, and his pulse immediately kicked into high gear. His thoughts began swimming out of his control again, and this time, he knew he wouldn't be able to shove them away. This time, he didn't want to.

He was further encouraged when she didn't move away from him. She remained right up against his side, and although she had gotten very quiet, she appeared to be completely aware of what she was doing.

They remained where they were, reading the same page together, although Ron was pretty sure that he hadn't processed a single word of it. He didn't mind, though. If it was important, Hermione would be sure to tell him all about it in her own words anyway. He was much more concerned with what to do next. They couldn't just sit here like this all afternoon, could they?

He realized she'd finished when he felt her shift against his side. He looked up at her and his own body twitched when he saw how close her face was to his.

"So, what do you think?" she asked, her voice sounding very quiet in the still air surrounding them.

His mind tumbled over itself as he watched her mouth move to form the words he hadn't quite heard. He knew he was supposed to say something from the expectant look on her face, but he didn't know what. He reached for the first thing that came to him. "This is going to be more difficult than I thought," he said.

"I know," she answered, lowering her eyes to the cover of the now closed book in her lap.

Ron couldn't keep his eyes off her as her hand began to trace the patterns under her palm. His fingers itched to move onto hers, to feel the warmth spread through him once again. He hadn't realized they had in fact moved to rest alongside hers until he felt her stiffen against him.

"Actually," he said, finding his courage rise to the surface in a single, steady flow of movement, "to be honest, that wasn't what I was thinking at all."

There was a beat where she didn't move at all, but then he saw her fingers move slightly so that one overlapped his. Her eyes came up to meet his gaze levelly. "I know," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

His eyes flickered down to them briefly, the urge to kiss her overwhelming him to the point of pure distraction. He couldn't focus on anything real any longer, and let his head drop down to hers. His lips touched the corner of her mouth, and he pulled back immediately, his cheeks flushing with a searing heat as he realized that he'd missed.

Leave it to him to mess up the first time he ever attempted to kiss her.

Every instinct within him screamed at him to bolt back to the safety of the house as fast as he could. In the next instant, however, he felt her hand resting reassuringly on his arm, keeping him seated next to her.

"Try again," she said, so quietly that he had to strain to hear her.

He didn't need telling twice. It was exactly that…the understanding she had of him that made him so absolutely mental over her.

His head bent again, and this time his lips found hers tentatively. They remained like that, lips barely grazing, getting used to the new sensations that were sweeping over them like a whirlwind.

He felt her sigh against his mouth and before he knew it, he was pressing his lips more firmly against hers. She tilted her head instinctively and their kiss became one of introduction. He moved his mouth gently against hers, trying to shut off the part of his brain that was still telling him she was his friend and nothing more.

As if she had read his mind, her hand moved up to rest lightly on his shoulder, her fingers splayed out and brushing his neck. His whole body reacted to her touch and he allowed himself to fully give himself over to the other part of his brain that wanted to show her how much he had always wanted this.

His lips opened slightly, taking hers with them, and a feeling unlike any he'd ever known gripped his insides and shook his world apart right from under him as their mouths moved together slowly.

His thoughts began spinning out of control, tumbling over themselves until he couldn't seem to function properly. He eased his lips off hers for his own self-preservation, and was amazed at how wrong the world felt now that he wasn't kissing her any longer. His breathing was labored, and he tried to regain some semblance of control as she pulled away from him, her hand sliding back down to his elbow. Her eyes were very bright as they stared back at him, and her lips were so damned inviting that he had to look away.

"We just…" she trailed off slowly, looking almost shocked at what had just passed between them.

"Yeah," he said, not able to put the distance between them that he probably should to regain some clarity. Somehow, the contact was all that was keeping him from coming apart right now. When she didn't continue, all of his worst fears came to the surface. He looked at her to see if she thought they'd made a mistake, and found her staring pensively at the collar of his shirt.

Gradually, a smile worked its way onto her face, and she looked so peaceful, so at ease that his breath literally caught in his chest.

"So…it was…uh…okay to do that?" he asked, searching her face for the slightest hint of regret.

She laughed quietly, the sound cutting through all the insecurity he could possibly have. "It was more than okay," she said. She was looking at him expectantly, her eyes completely unwavering.

The urge to kiss her again swept over him so quickly that it winded him, and his head inclined toward hers.

"Ron…Hermione…I have lunch all ready for you!" Mrs. Weasley's voice reached them across the expanse of the lawn, and only the knowledge that they were hidden from her view by the massive tree stopped Ron's heart from leaping clear out of his chest.

They froze, inches apart, and opened their eyes to each other. There was a moment of silence following the echo of the shout, then they burst out laughing. Ron didn't know how to explain it, but it felt like the right thing to do. It made him feel closer to her than he'd ever had to know that she felt the exact same way at this exact moment.

He hoisted himself to his feet, dusting himself off quickly before reaching down for her hands. He pulled her up and allowed himself a brief moment to hold her hands as they grinned at each other.

"Doesn't it just figure," Hermione said lightly, reaching up with one hand and removing a small leaf from his hair.

"Yeah, I guess it does," he said, shaking his head.

Her eyes grew soft then as she stared back at him. "Well, I guess we better get inside." She began to step past him, but he held onto her hand, tugging her back to him gently.

"We're good, right?" he said, knowing that the second they entered the house that everything in his world would change. It was an unbelievably frightening thought, but one he was more than ready to deal with if it meant that he could finally be with her.

"We're good," she said, stepping toward him quickly and kissing him on the cheek for a long, lingering moment. Then, she gave him a bright smile and turned away to walk back to the house.

He watched her for a while as she got further and further away from him, and found it was too much distance for his liking. He hurried to catch up to her, and although they didn't reach for each other's hands, their arms continuously brushed as they made their way to the back door. The contact was now almost vital to him, and he couldn't help grinning privately when he thought of how much fun it was going to be discovering this new area they'd gotten themselves into.

It didn't escape his attention though, as they crossed the lawn together, that just when they were facing their own new beginning, they could possibly be facing the end of everything they'd ever known.

* * *

Ginny got back shortly after they'd finished lunch, and from that point on, Ron was caught up in a whirlwind of activities his mother had set aside for them in preparation of the wedding. Hermione, of course, was told she didn't have to help in the slightest, but she quickly agreed to help Ginny and went off with her upstairs to prepare the rooms. Ron assumed they'd be gossiping about him and what had just happened, and he felt slightly uncomfortable knowing that his baby sister would be privy to that kind of personal information. Still, he knew Hermione needed a girl to talk to sometimes, so he tried to let it go. Boys just didn't need to do that kind of thing.

At least that's what he thought until Harry came barreling out of the fireplace right before supper. Ron looked up from the table he'd been mending with his wand and grinned at his best friend.

"How've you been, mate?" he asked, swatting away the cloud of cinders that had kicked up in front of him.

Harry readjusted his glasses and shook the soot from his hair. "Actually, not bad, all things considered," he said, glancing down at the table. "What are you doing?"

"Getting stuff ready for this bloody wedding," he grumbled, kicking the loose leg with his trainer. "I swear, this thing has taken on a life of its own."

Harry grinned and tossed his overnight bag on the floor next to the sofa. Ron noticed it and raised his eyebrow. "Packing light, I see?"

"All my stuff is boxed up at Privet Drive, ready to go when I get back from the wedding," Harry replied, checking his pocket to make sure his wand survived the trip intact.

Ron nodded, glancing at the doorway to the kitchen to make sure his mother wasn't anywhere in sight. "You'll have to help me, then, because I don't have the foggiest idea what to take."

From above them came a loud thump, then laughter. Harry looked up at the ceiling, an unreadable expression on his face. "Are the girls up there?" he asked.

Suddenly, the inclination to tell Harry everything swept over him and he was almost powerless against it. "I have to tell you something," he said, perching on the arm of the couch. He cleared his throat nervously, opened his mouth, closed it, cleared his throat again, and then shoved his hands into his pockets.

Harry studied all of this with a level gaze, then grinned. "You kissed Hermione, didn't you?" he asked, crossing his arms over his chest triumphantly.

Ron stared back at him in shock. Was it written on his face or something? "How did you know that?" he asked, feeling his ears burning slightly.

"I don't know, I just did," Harry said, continuing to grin at him. "Well done, I say. It's about ruddy time."

Ron couldn't help it; he felt himself grinning back. Harry then raised his eyebrows suggestively. "Well, how was it? Better than with Lavendar?"

Ron shook his head emphatically. "It was bloody brilliant, mate. No contest whatsoever."

Harry laughed then, chucking him on the arm. "Well, just as long as the two of you don't go off on your own all the time, snogging your way across Europe…"

He knew Harry was only joking, but it was something he had already started thinking about. How were they going to continue whatever it was they were starting when they were going to be so busy saving the world from total annihilation? It wasn't exactly the easiest romance to get off the ground in the first place.

Harry settled himself on the chair across from him and looked up at the ceiling again. Ron could tell that he wanted to go up and have a moment with Ginny, but was struggling with himself to remain seated.

Ron had never felt sorrier for Harry than he did right now. It was one thing to have a destiny and know that only you could fulfill it, but it was quite another when you couldn't be with the person that made everything worthwhile. Harry's self-imposed distance from Ginny would end up destroying him in the end, and Ron couldn't bear to watch it.

"Why don't you go up and talk to her?" he asked, breaking into Harry's thoughts. "She told me you two aren't together anymore but that doesn't mean that you have to ignore her."

"I won't ignore her," Harry snapped quickly, then looked chagrined. "Sorry," he said, running a hand through his already messy hair. "I just don't feel like going up there just yet. I don't know what to say to her…and I feel really weird talking about this with you," he added, looking uncomfortable.

"Look, it's not my favorite topic of choice either, but don't feel weird," Ron insisted. "I have to let you talk about her a little bit, don't I? I mean, she's who you care about, and you can't help that it's my sister. You're my best mate. If you want to talk, then talk."

Harry shot him a curious glance. "So that's what one snogging session with Hermione gets you, huh," he said, barely containing his amusement. Ron performed a gesture that would have made his mother shout herself hoarse, then became serious again.

"Why did you break up with her?" he asked.

Harry didn't seem to know what to say at first. He simply sighed and settled back against the overstuffed cushion.

"It seemed like the right thing to do," he began, his voice sounding completely unconvincing. "We're not going to be around for a while, and I wouldn't want her just sitting around wondering if she'll get a letter or something from me…missing out on a year of her life while we are off who knows where…"

Ron realized then that he was in a terrible position. He knew how Ginny felt about the situation, and her words were beginning to infiltrate his common sense. "I think she wants to come with us," he said.

Harry's relaxed posture was gone in an instant, his whole body seeming to seize up. "And you told her no, right?" he said, his eyes locked with Ron's intently. "You told her she couldn't."

"I didn't tell her anything," Ron said. "I think it's more understood than anything. She just knew that she wasn't going to be a part of what we are going to do, and she's not all that thrilled about it."

"I don't care," Harry insisted. "She can hate me every day for the rest of her life, but she isn't coming."

Ron waited a breath before speaking again. Harry looked to be almost wild with righteous indignation, and he knew from experience that he needed a bit of a lull before being able to listen to reason.

"What would be the worst thing about her coming?" Ron asked, breaking the silence between them. "She would be just as in danger as the rest of us…no more, no less."

Harry looked at him as if he'd gone completely mental. "She's your baby sister, Ron. Why are you pushing this? Don't you want her here, where it's safe?" he practically growled in hostility.

Ron tried not to take offense, realizing that if the situation was reversed, and someone was trying to talk him into letting Ginny go, he'd probably be just as angry. "Hey, if I could, I would lock her up for the next ten years and throw away the key, but it isn't about us. It's about her. She's really hurt and angry right now, and I hate seeing her like this."

Harry's face slid from hostility to concern so quickly that Ron wasn't sure he even saw it. "I didn't mean to hurt her, you know that," Harry said in a low voice, imploring Ron to believe him. Ron nodded silently, but shrugged.

"Of course I do, but that doesn't mean she's alright. She's scared for us and there's nothing she can do. I would hate to be in her position," Ron explained, watching as realization dawned on Harry's face.

They were quiet for another moment, until Harry raised his eyes to Ron's and pinned him with his gaze. "Tell me the truth. If it was Hermione in this situation, would you want her going if you knew that your enemies would exploit your feelings for her? Would you want her there, with you, if you knew that at any moment you could watch her die?"

Ron's blood turned cold at the mere thought of losing Hermione. His hands clenched into fists at his sides involuntarily, but he fought to keep the images at bay. "But she is going, and I have to accept it because it's what she wants to do. Besides, I know you don't want to watch one of us die either," he reasoned.

Harry's whole body seemed to deflate before his very eyes. Suddenly, his best friend looked small.

"No, I don't," he said sullenly. "But you two wouldn't let me go without you. If I left in the middle of the night, I know you wouldn't stop until you found me. So I figure it's much safer if we all stick together."

"But that wouldn't be safe for Ginny," Ron said, looking for clarification.

"It's different, and you know it," Harry said, placing linked fingers on top of his head as if he was trying to hold his brain down from spinning out of control. There was such a doomed look on his face that it cast a shadow over his features. "I can't let anything happen to her."

Ron realized something then, and it took him so by surprise that he almost slid off the arm of the sofa.

"You love her," he said, his voice filled with a mixture of awe and sympathy. Harry's hands dropped to his sides and eyes clouded so instantaneously that it left no doubt in Ron's mind. His best mate was in love with his sister.

"When the hell did this happen?" he asked, not so much angry as he was curious. He had been witness to the beginning of their relationship and the months that had followed. Sure, they seemed to like each other a great deal, and were always smiling in each other's presence, but…love?

"What kind of question is that?" Harry retorted. "How am I supposed to know?"

They stopped immediately when they heard a commotion on the second floor landing and realized that someone was coming down the stairs.

"We're not finished here," Ron said quickly, as his mother began descending into the living room.

Harry looked a bit disgruntled but plastered a smile on his face when Mrs. Weasley caught sight of him and ran to embrace him. Ron watched the scene with a small smile on his face. His best mate was in love with his sister. The next few days were going to be awfully interesting.

"Harry! Oh, it's so wonderful to see you, dear," his mother fussed, brushing aside his unruly hair to peck his cheek. "Have you been up to see Ginny yet?" she asked.

"Uh, no," Harry said, looking slightly uncomfortable.

Ron decided to take pity on him. "No, mum, he just got here ten minutes ago, and I had him helping me with the table," he explained. His mother cast the still-broken table a disapproving look, then aimed it at him. "Well, we just got to talking, though, and didn't quite finish up."

"Why don't you go get settled," his mother prodded, picking up Harry's bag and placing it on his shoulder. "On your way you can poke your head into Ginny's room and say hello to her and Hermione."

Harry looked to Ron for support, but Ron didn't really have any more to give. In fact, he heartily believed that Harry needed to talk to Ginny about all of this – which would send Hermione downstairs to him. In his mind, everyone won.

"Yeah, mate, why don't you go do that," he said, gesturing toward the table again. "I have to finish this or people will have to stand around with plates in their hands all night."

Harry glared at him, but shouldered his bag more firmly nonetheless. He appeared to take a moment to fortify himself before heading for the stairs.

Ron chuckled to himself as his mother made herself scarce. Harry had looked as if he was marching off to his death, not simply gearing up for a tough conversation with his girlfriend. Even so, Ron knew that any minute Hermione would be coming down the stairs, giving Ginny and Harry all the privacy they needed to talk, and he could suggest a walk for themselves…to discuss what was going on.

Or, he thought with a smile, maybe they wouldn't discuss anything much at all.

_**Keep reading and reviewing! You all have such wonderful feedback for me that helps me continue to create this story in the way I feel it should be done.**_

**_I got a great idea for a plotline from Jenulus, which may or may not be included later. LJ Fan, thanks for the comment about them being 'in character'. I work very hard to keep them there. (I think you may have reviewed my other story, "Anywhere but in Between" as well, I'm sure I remember your awesome reviews!)Memorieslost – thanks for adding me to your favorite authors! How wonderful…Sugarquill, thanks for your sympathies regarding my friend and your amazing review._**


	4. They're Only Words

**Invisible Scars**

_**To my amazing reviewers,**_

**_I have to take a moment here. I apologize in advance for the delay. I was having an absolutely horrible day. The kind where all you can do is think about your couch, your favorite book or t.v. show and good take-out all day long as the clock moves backwards instead of forwards. Where you doubt if you are doing anything constructive with the life you've chosen to lead. Then I became even more moody when I realized that usually, on a day like this, I would talk to Nick, my friend, my mentor, about how I felt and he would listen intently while I spouted off, then sit back, his glasses askew and look at me like I was crazy. Then he'd tell me I had a great life and to get over myself. I missed that, and him, very much today._**

_**Then I read your reviews. At work. And there was a bright spot that actually made me feel that the world didn't completely suck.**_

_**Thank you, all, for giving my ego the boost it needed to realize maybe I'm actually doing a little bit of creative goodness in my life. I know it's only fanfiction; a made-up story about people that don't really exist. All the same, your wonderful and heartfelt encouragement made me feel important in the grand scheme of things for one shining moment, and I have to say, it's totally worth it. Today, by the end of the day, I didn't seem so…small…in the world.**_

**_I have no possible way to thank you for that, except to say it. _**

**_Thank you, more than you know._**

_**Okay, enough of that stuff. Let's get going, shall we?**_

****

**Chapter 4 – They're Only Words**

****

Harry had figured by the time he reached Ginny's door he would know what to say. He had spent the entire short trip up the stairs going over all the things he could say to Ginny that would make things alright for both of them. He knew why he was doing what he was doing, and if she needed to know, then he would be prepared to answer her.

He stood in front of the solid oak, staring at it blankly.

_Just knock_, he persuaded himself. _Just lift your fist…_

Minute two stretched into minute three with infinite slowness. His hand raised, then dropped, then raised again. His bag slipped off his shoulder onto the floor with a soft thud that went completely undetected by his addled brain. Why couldn't he just knock on the stupid door?

He leaned his forehead against it in frustration, cursing himself over and over again. He could face unmentionable evils and do it without a conscious thought, but he couldn't bring himself to convince the girl who invaded his every thought that they shouldn't be together.

Harry sighed, expelling the breath from his lungs as if he could purge all the conflicting thoughts from his body. His body tensed with the motion, causing him to stumble unflatteringly into Ginny's room when the door was yanked open a split second later.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed in surprise as he struggled to right himself before taking a nose-dive into the carpet. She threw out a hand to keep him from falling. "I thought I heard something," she said, laughing at his own surprised expression.

The situation was already miles off from what he'd imagined. His eyes found Ginny, who had taken an instinctive step toward him and then froze where she stood, her expression a mixture of his own confusion and genuine amusement.

She raised an eyebrow at him, and his chest constricted tightly. What was it he had come up here to discuss?

"How have you been?" Hermione asked, pulling him in for a quick hug. He hugged her back, noticing that she looked a bit different than he remembered her. When they broke apart, he got a better look at her and realized that she _did_ look different. She looked relaxed and happy, and he grinned at her. His two best friends getting together looked like it agreed with both of them.

"I'm fine," he said, his eyes swinging back to Ginny, who was now studying him with her practiced eye. He was used to it by now, though, and gave her a reassuring smile. "Really," he added. "How are you guys?"

Hermione shrugged noncommittally, but Harry could tell she was bursting to explain just how fine she was.

Ginny also shrugged, but hers cut him to the quick, the tightness in his chest increasing in its intensity.

"Fair," she said, crossing her arms across her chest. "This wedding nonsense is taking over the house, though. You've been warned."

Hermione laughed quickly, looking slightly uncomfortable, and Harry knew why. The tension was mounting slowly in the room, rising up around them filled with all the things that were going unsaid.

Harry forced himself to laugh as well, but it was the last thing he felt like doing. What he really wanted to do was grab Ginny and kiss her the way he'd been dreaming of kissing her after being apart from her all summer.

Ginny met his gaze evenly, and he knew that she knew exactly what he was thinking. She always seemed to know. The thought was so comforting and so unnerving at the same time that Harry suddenly felt incredibly overwhelmed.

Hermione sprang to life then, crossing the room to grab a box that was shoved in the corner. "Well, I better bring this up to the attic. Your mum said she'd be checking our progress in about an hour, and we still have to get to the twins' old room." She gave Harry a pointed look, then turned to Ginny. "I'll get their room in order if you finish up in here."

Ginny gave her a small smile, which Hermione returned quickly before hustling out the door. Harry watched her go in silence, dreading the moment he'd have to turn back to the red-head across the room. He knew that the second he did, he wouldn't be able to deny what he really wanted.

"Are you really okay?" Ginny asked, her voice breaking the silence of Hermione's absence in the room. The question was soft and sure, and he couldn't resist her for one more second.

He faced her bravely, taking in the concern etched in her beautiful features and cursed himself again for having put it there.

"It depends on your definition of okay," he said, taking a step toward her.

She kept her gaze even with his. He took another step toward her, only wanting to hold her and feel her bury her forehead against his neck as she used to.

"I'm sorry this is so…weird," he said, realizing that he truly meant it. The last thing he wanted was for her to feel awkward or unsure around him. She was the most important thing in his life, the only one who gave him any kind of reprieve or rest. The only one who, by simply being herself, allowed him to see what it was he wanted out of his life; laughter, affection…happiness.

"I know," she said, dropping her arms to her sides and sighing softly. "I'm sorry, too."

Somehow, they had moved across the floor toward each other, close enough to touch each other if they simply reached out.

Neither moved.

"I've missed you," he said, looking down at his trainers. "I thought about you all summer."

"Me too," she admitted grudgingly. "Although my thoughts were about how many hexes I wanted to hurl at your stubborn head."

Harry looked up quickly and caught the teasing look on her face. "I'm kidding, of course," she said, then smiled. "Well, maybe only half kidding."

He laughed, and it felt good. She had done it again. She'd taken his darkness and made him forget about it, if only for a moment. "I understand."

Her eyes grew serious as she considered him. "I'm going to need you to be patient with me," she said. "I know all the facts, I know all the reasons. I even understand them, to a certain extent. But you need to know that part of me doesn't want to understand, because that means I can't be with you." Her eyes began to shine, and her gaze tried to waver from his.

He couldn't let it. He knew all the facts, all the reasons. He even understood them, to a certain extent. But a part of him didn't want to understand, either, and that part made hold onto her gaze and take one more step toward her.

She sighed again, this time in quiet resignation. She stepped up to him and put her arms around him and buried her head against the crook of his neck. "Please tell me this will get easier," she said, her voice muffled by his shirt.

"I don't think there's much of a chance of that," Harry said, stroking her hair gently as he held her as close as he could.

"Damn," she said softly, pulling away from him enough to see his face. "Promise me something, then."

"Anything."

"Whatever happens, whatever decisions need to be made, neither of us will forget that when it is all said and done, we care about each other," she said, her voice impressively even and calm. Harry wished he felt half of that right now, facing her, wanting nothing more than to chuck the whole thing and stay with her until someone told him to go away.

"Promise," he said quietly. She smiled then, and it was his undoing. Their eyes were holding each other's steadily, saying all that needed to be said. Her eyes grew bright again and she focused them on his mouth. Before he knew it, his head inclined toward hers and he gently captured her lips under his.

Her hands came around to rest against his chest. She leaned into him as she always had, with complete trust and equal intensity, becoming his match in every way. They took their time with each other, perhaps knowing that this might be the last time they could be together like this. This was their own goodbye of sorts, to things that might have been between them.

The kiss increased in its intensity, and all of Harry's excuses and explanations began crashing down around him. He broke the kiss before he changed his mind about everything he thought he believed in, and felt her bury her head against him once again.

How would things be between them now? Could he seek her out just to hear her voice over the next few days, or would it be more fair to keep his distance and not complicate things? Could he laugh around her and share funny moments? Could he tell her about how scared he was to go off on his own and how much he missed Dumbledore?

As if reading his thoughts, she inclined her head up to his and met his gaze. The look in her eyes reassured him without a single word.

* * *

Hermione descended the stairs leadingfrom the attic and paused at the landing. She spared a glance down the main staircase, then turned to the twins' room. Unsure of what to do next she simply stood in the middle of the hallway, considering her hesitation.

_Cowardice is more like it, _she harshly admitted to herself as she turned the knob to the bedroom. She had never been happier and here she was, inexplicably embarrassed to face Ron again so soon after their kiss.

She entered the room and found it cluttered with small messes. Sighing heavily, she tried to convince herself that she was only doing the responsible thing. The room needed to be ready for guests and it wouldn't get done if she was off with Ron, picking up where they had left off. Her cheeks flushed in the privacy of the room, for which she was grateful, but she willed it away quickly and set about her work.

As she flicked her wand to set a pile of clothes in a spare box, she thought of what things would be like between them for the next few days. She wondered if they would act more like boyfriend and girlfriend than best friends, or the other way around. Knowing them, they would carve out their own definition of things, and the thought made her smile.

Their 'relationship' was definitely one of a kind.

There was a light rapping on the open door, and she turned to see Ron leaning against the doorframe.

"I was wondering where you got off to," he said, entering the room and looking at the slight progress she had made. "Need any help?"

She couldn't help but smile at him as he busied himself about a pile of spellbooks and parchments on the desk. Now that he was here, in front of her, she didn't know why she'd ever doubted going to him in the first place.

"I thought you might've come downstairs when Harry came up," he said, swishing the books into another box on the floor. "Didn't realize you'd be up to your ears in this destruction."

"Your mum wanted the rooms ready by tonight," she replied. "It was on her 'list of things to do.'"

Ron groaned, and rolled his eyes. "Ah, the list. Would you tell on me if I burned it in the fireplace?"

She laughed at him as she sank onto the corner of the nearest bed. "Not if you don't tell on me for taking a break." Ron finished folding the box around the spellbooks and sat on the other bed, facing her.

"Deal," he said, leaning back on his hands. "So, was it weird when they saw each other?" he asked, nodding his head toward the door.

Hermione sighed again, smiling ruefully. "I didn't stick around long enough to find out. The air was so thick I couldn't breathe."

Ron looked thoughtfully at a spot on the floor. "You think they'll be okay around each other this week? I mean, it will be awful for everyone if they can't even look at each other, much less stay in the same room."

Hermione considered him carefully. She could see his conflicting roles warring within him. He was Ginny's big brother, but he was Harry's best mate. If they couldn't be around each other without it being awkward and chose to keep their distance, would she and Ron have to split their time between them? The thought was so awful that she tried to push it as far out of her mind as she could. When Harry and Ginny had started hanging out together, Hermione had felt as if they were oddly complete. Now, things were on the verge of splitting apart if they let it.

"We'll just have to take our cue from them," she said finally, not knowing any other way to approach it. Suddenly, she didn't want to think of Harry and Ginny any longer. She realized it made her a terrible friend, but she wanted to focus on her own romance for a while. She figured she had earned at least that much.

"Do you want to put this off for a bit and go for a walk?" she asked, and was surprised by the amused look on his face. "What?" she asked.

"Nothing," he said, coming off the bed and reaching down for her hand. "I think a walk is a brilliant idea."

She grabbed his hand and allowed herself to be pulled up. She looked at him suspiciously, knowing that in that boy brain of his, he was thinking of a private place to take her to continue their previous…pastime.

"You're thinking you're getting another kiss, don't you?" she asked, her mouth twitching mischievously. He waggled his eyebrows at her, which caused her to burst out laughing. "You're impossible, you know that?"

He nudged her with his elbow as they walked out the door. "Is that another one of my best qualities?" he said impishly, earning himself a not so gentle shove in return.

They laughed as they descended the stairs, neither realizing that their hands had found their way into each other's until Mrs. Weasley came around the corner of the kitchen and looked up at them. Their hands fell away from each other's quickly, and Hermione felt her cheeks flush brilliantly against her will.

"Where are you two off to?" she asked, wiping her hands on a towel. "Are the rooms all finished?"

"Uh, no Mrs. Weasley," Hermione said, her voice sounding odd to her own ears. "We just needed a bit of a break. We were, ah…"

"We wanted to let Ginny and Harry have some time together to talk," Ron piped up quickly. His mother nodded absently, smiling, then the smile slowly faded as a look of motherly concern crossed her face as she looked up the stairs as if she could see into the room from where she stood.

"They're up there alone?" Mrs. Weasley said, still wiping her hands, unnecessarily by now, on the dishtowel.

Ron looked surprised by his mother's reaction, and stepped off the stairs to reassure her. "No, it's okay," he said, pulling the towel out of her twisting hands. "They've broken up, so they really are just talking."

Hermione groaned under her breath. Leave it to Ron to expose all of Ginny's business to their mother without even knowing he did it. She saw Mrs. Weasley's look of concern deepen, although now she was most likely simply concerned for her daughter.

"Why did they break up?" she asked, looking between Ron and Hermione for answers.

"Ah, well, I don't rightly…" Ron fumbled, looking to Hermione for help. Hermione shook her head with a warning look in her eyes. She was staying out of this, and tried to convey with her look that he should as well.

Luckily, he appeared to know exactly what she meant. "Mum, I really think that's their business," he said, his voice not as sure as he probably wanted it to sound.

To her credit, Mrs. Weasley didn't push the issue, and even forgot about reminding them to continue their cleaning. "Oh, by the way, a letter arrived for you," she said absently, reaching into her apron pocket and pulling out a long, thin envelope.

Hermione stared at it curiously, not able to help wondering if it was from any ex-girlfriends he had. She caught sight of the address as Mrs. Weasley handed it to Ron.

Mister Ronald Weasley. Well, she certainly hoped Lavendar wouldn't address him as such. That would just be strange.

Ron's look mirrored her own curiosity, and once his mother had moved past them to the back room, he opened the letter. His eyes slid over the pages, growing wider and wider as he read. He was at it so long that Hermione's curiosity was well past its limit.

"What is it?" she asked, concerned now because he was flipping the last piece of parchment over and over as if looking for some secret compartment.

"Come outside with me?" he asked, nodding his head toward the door.

She nodded, leading the way outside. They crossed unconsciously to the tree they'd sat under earlier that day, and Hermione watched as he flopped onto the ground, all the while re-reading bits of the letter.

"Ron, for pity's sake, what does it say?" she asked. He shook his head and handed her the letter. She snatched it from him and set about reading the letter that had him looking so shaken up.

_Mister Weasley,_

_You'll have to forgive me for contacting you without proper introductions, but I feel there is no time for pleasantries. Please accept that what I will discuss with you is of utmost importance, and I am assured that you will use this information in the way you best see fit._

_It has come to my attention that you are friends with Harry Potter. I believe there is another, Miss Hermione Granger, whom I am confident will be appraised of the situation by yourself at an appropriate time._

_I came to hear about Mr. Potter and your various adventures from a source which I cannot presently disclose. However, I do believe we share several acquaintances. I had a brother whom I understand was intimately connected with the Potter family. It is because of him that I write this letter. My brother was murdered by supporters of the very man who took my own life from me. I am still very much alive, but with nothing to show for a decent life. It is only recently that I learned of Dumbledore's passing, and it is with this concern foremost in my mind that I write this letter._

_I have made it my mission – my lifelong pursuit – to assure that Voldemort and his Death Eaters fail in their quest. I once thought him gone, as did most of the wizarding world, and had to redouble my efforts upon learning of his resurrection. I have already begun to set certain things in motion to bring about his downfall, but I realize now that Mr. Potter and his friends are a necessary part of the equation. _

_  
It is in this strain that I offer my services. I am in possession of certain knowledge that will be useful to you and would like to share it as soon as possible. Of course, it will not be disclosed via owl post; therefore we must make contact another way. I will be in touch shortly with further information. I understand if you have reservations, as you should if you are the vigilant friend and confidante I believe you to be, but I must stress, my intentions are pure and just._

_If you need proof of this, all I can say is that the truth can be found behind family, no matter how hard it may be to see._

_My most sincere regards,_

_R.A.B._

Hermione dropped the letter to her lap, stunned beyond words. She turned to Ron, who nodded in agreement.

"I know," he said in an awed voice.

"R.A.B.," she repeated, her eyes skimming over the post-script. "Ron, if this person had a brother connected with Harry's parents…" she trailed off, her mind racing to connect the patterns.

Ron leaned back against the tree, his own mind working the problem. "B…B…who do we know with the last name –"

They came up with the answer at the same time, and they stared at each other with matching looks of disbelief.

"Black," Ron finished. "But that would mean…"

"Regulus. Sirius' brother," Hermione finished for him, scrunching her face in confusion. "I thought he was a known Death Eater, though," she said, rubbing at her temples. Suddenly, she had a very powerful headache.

Ron picked up the letter again, examining it as he had before. "I have absolutely no idea what to make of this," he admitted, looking tiredly out across the lawn.

They sat in silence for a minute, each lost in their own thoughts. Hermione sighed then, taking the letter from him and folding it back into the envelope.

"We can show this to Harry after dinner," she said, making a quick decision. "If it is Sirius' brother, we have to decide whether we're going to trust this, but we can't do anything until he contacts us again anyway."

Ron nodded in agreement, and stretched his legs out in front of him. "I swear, this is not at all what I thought today would be like when I woke up this morning."

Hermione couldn't help but smile at his tone. "Me either," she said, putting her legs out next to his. Suddenly, the contact was of vital importance to her. It was real and it was true, and she didn't have to think too hard about how she felt about it.

He stared at the pairs of their trainers next to each other, then blindly reached over for her hand. Their fingers entwined securely, bringing another smile to her face. It amazed her that he read her so well sometimes.

"You know what I wish?" he asked, tracing slow patterns on top of her thumb with his own.

"What?" she asked, falling slowly into the haze of simply being allowed to be like this with him, finally, openly…well, at least behind the protection of the tree.

He smiled then, looking boyish for a brief moment. "I wish we had figured us out ages ago, because it doesn't look like we'll be getting all that much time to ourselves for a while," he said, a hint of regret in his eyes.

She laughed quietly, squeezing his hand. "Yeah, me too," she said, moving up closer against his side.

Ron turned to her then, and the intensity of his eyes stunned her for a moment. "I don't consider this less important than anything else," he said emphatically, gesturing between the two of them. "I just want you to know that. No matter what happens."

If he had said anything else – sweet words of flirtation or adoration – she probably wouldn't have believed him. But this…this she believed, simply because it was the way things were for them.

She reached for his cheek with her free hand and felt the muscle in his jaw work under her fingers. His eyes held hers, and she knew in that instant that the two of them would be just fine. They would figure out their own pace, their own path.

She leaned forward, placing her lips gently on his. Their hands remained clasped between them as they took this moment just for themselves and each other.

The rest would still be there when they decided to let it back in.

**_I have to say, I felt truly inspired when writing this. When I thought of all of you, I realized I had to upmy game to be worthy of you. So, did any of you think the same as me? When I read HBP I spent so much time turning over the letters RAB in my head, and this idea snuck in. Lots of goodies to come!_**


	5. Explanations Are In Order

**Invisible Scars**

****

_**To all of you, my cup runneth over.**_

****

**Chapter 5 – Explanations Are In Order**

After dinner, Mrs. Weasley had recruited her children for wedding details, dismissing Harry and Hermione's offers of help.

"Don't be silly, dears," she'd said with a smile. "Besides, tomorrow is going to be filled with enough things to keep everyone busy all day."

Which is how Hermione had found the opportunity to drag Harry upstairs to Ron's room, where he was currently reading the lengthy letter she'd shoved into his hands. Hermione tried reading his face as he scanned the page, the light reflecting off his glasses. When he'd reached the end and placed the letter on Ron's desk, Hermione raised her eyebrows. Where was the shock? Didn't he understand?

"Harry," she said, almost impatiently, "R.A.B…from that first note inside the locket. R.A.B. is Sirius' brother, Regulus. He has to be."

Harry sighed heavily, the weight of the circumstances almost visibly bearing down on his shoulders.

"Who else could it be? The person said he knew people intimately connected with your family," she continued when he remained silent for way too long. "It's the only thing that makes sense."

Harry seemed to come to himself then, looking up at her with an unreadable expression. "Sense? None of this makes sense, Hermione," he said, gesturing at the note. "This whole situation…and besides, I know for a fact that Regulus is dead."

Hermione stared evenly back at him. "Who told you that?"

"Sirius," Harry answered, feeling the small pang of grief he always did when he thought of his father's best friend. "He told me when we stayed at Grimmauld Place. He said his brother joined up with Voldemort, then panicked at what he was being asked to do, and tried cutting away. Sirius heard later that Voldemort murdered him, or at least sent someone to do it for him."

Hermione nodded, digesting the information. "But isn't it possible Regulus survived and went into hiding? Your parents did," she reasoned.

Harry shrugged helplessly. "I don't know."

"I think the best thing to do at this point is get in touch with Lupin," Hermione suggested, hating the look on Harry's face. She stepped forward and grabbed parchment off of Ron's desk. "I know he's coming for the wedding the day after tomorrow, but maybe you'll feel better if you talk to him before then."

Harry nodded at her and reached for a quill. "Okay, but what do I say? Dear Remus, how've you been? Ron just received a letter from Sirius' dead brother and he says he knows how we can take Voldemort down. Please advise."

Hermione smiled at his tone, then shrugged. "Why not? Sounds about right to me."

"Hermione, I was kidding," he said, the quill poised above the parchment.

"I don't know why," she said. "It's short and to the point."

Harry laughed at her as he began to scribble what he assumed would be read with a very confused, wary look from Lupin. "Fine, but when he comes barreling over here demanding answers, I'm pointing right at you to do the explaining."

He finished the short letter, tied it to Hedwig's leg and opened Ron's window. Then he turned to Hermione and sighed again. "So, what now?"

She grimaced as she sank into the chair behind her. "We wait," she said tersely. "I hate waiting."

"Well, while we're waiting, is there something you want to tell me about you and Ron?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her. She looked up at him, startled, then recognized the teasing look on his face.

"It's not nice to make fun of your friends," she said, scowling slightly. "I didn't have a go at you when you took up with Ginny, did I?"

The teasing look slid from Harry's face, replaced with one of apology. "No, you're right…sorry," he said.

Hermione felt silly all of a sudden. After all, what had he really asked? "Sorry, Harry," she apologized. "I guess I'm just not used to all of this yet."

The truth was, she really didn't know what exactly to say in response to his question. What would she tell people? Were they dating, or was it more than that? Were they…what exactly were they?

"S'okay," he said, smiling at her. "Ron told me that you two…well, that you've moved on from last year." She blushed crimson at his words, causing Harry's grin to grow. "I take it that you forgave him," he said seriously.

She expelled a breath in an effort to clear her thoughts. "It's so strange. I mean, one day we're just friends, and now…" she trailed off, looking at him helplessly. "It's confusing and exhilarating, but the really weird thing is that it's not weird at all. Am I making any sense?" she asked, when she saw that his expression had remained the same throughout her little rant.

"Actually, you're making perfect sense," he said, still smiling. "It kind of felt like that with me and Ginny. One minute friends, the next, something else entirely."

Hermione felt much better knowing that he understood what she was going through. "So what exactly did Ron tell you about us?" she asked, letting her curiosity get the better of her.

"Oh no," Harry emphasized, shaking his head. "What Ron tells me stays with me. Just like what you and Ginny tell each other stays between you."

Hermione shot him a look, but grinned all the same. "Fine. Be that way."

Harry was about to retort when they heard footsteps in the hall outside the door. A moment later, Mrs. Weasley appeared, looking out of sorts.

"Harry, Hermione, Remus is downstairs. He says he needs to speak with you both," she said, the panic she was obviously feeling evident in every word she spoke. "May I send him up?"

Harry came away from the window as Hermione rose swiftly out of her chair. "He couldn't possibly have gotten our message this quickly," she reasoned with an incredulous look at Harry.

"What message?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her hands now clasping and unclasping at a rapid rate. "Is something wrong?"

"No, Mrs. Weasley," Harry assured her, crossing to the door. "Really. I just had some questions about Sirius and my parents, and I didn't want to talk about that stuff at Bill's wedding," he explained honestly.

Mrs. Weasley didn't look convinced, however, but she relaxed her hands all the same. "I'll send him up so you can have some privacy," she said, including Hermione in her sharp gaze. "You let me know if there's anything you need."

As she left, Harry's eyes met Hermione's and she shook her head. "I have no idea," she said in response to his silent question. "There's no way Hedwig found him that soon."

When Lupin appeared in the doorway, he looked tense and hesitant.

"Hello Harry…Hermione," he said in greeting, no trace of a welcoming smile or look anywhere on his face.

"Hi, profes – Remus," Harry said, looking shy all of a sudden. Hermione knew that Harry had a very complicated relationship with Lupin. The older man was no longer his professor, and had been one of his parents' closest friends, but she knew Harry couldn't help look at him as he had in Hogwarts. Lupin was neither parent nor godfather to Harry, but was the only link remaining to James and Lily, and therefore was thus far an undecided entity in Harry's life.

"I'm sorry I haven't been in touch lately," he said, looking deeply apologetic. "Things have been quite busy at the Order's headquarters."

"We understand," Hermione said, smiling at him. She had always been rather fond of Remus. "Are you still at Grimmauld Place, then?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact, that's where I'm coming from right now," he said, his expression darkening at the question. "I'm afraid there's been a bit of a situation that I need to make you both aware of."

Harry glanced at her, and she could see the weariness in his eyes. Her heart went out to him as he turned to face Lupin with his shoulders straightened.

"Is it Voldemort?" he asked.

Lupin nodded. "Yes, but it's not what you think. He hasn't killed anyone yet," he said, his face appearing very haggard all of a sudden. "He attacked a Muggle town outside of Lancaster. There were no casualties, but I don't think that was the point. Voldemort left his message with the poor family he tortured within their home. He's going to go after the muggle-borns first…try and get us to come after him full force…"

He paused, and turned to Hermione. "We have had someone in the Order watching over you and your parents all summer, and kept him in place after you left. He reported back tonight, saying there had been unusual activity in the area all day."

Hermione's eyes widened more and more the longer he talked. Her parents…

"Are they alright?" she asked, her voice sounding very high-pitched in the silent room.

"They're fine, but we felt it best that they come to Grimmauld Place until we've had a chance to make sure things are secure. Just as a precaution," he added assuredly when Hermione's posture didn't relax. "That's why I'm here. I thought you could come back with me and explain things to them as best you can. They've been asking for you."

Hermione nodded, already moving past Lupin in the doorway. She was already on the middle step when she heard Lupin tell Harry to come along as well.

Hermione reached the living room just as Mrs. Weasley rounded the corner with Ron and Ginny in tow.

"What's going on?" Ron asked, taking in her worried expression at once. "What is it?"

She looked back at him, and before she knew it, her hand was reaching out for his. As Lupin reached the bottom landing, she felt Ron's hand slide into hers, and she moved closer to him.

"Can Ron come with us?" she asked, looking first at Lupin, then Mrs. Weasley. Lupin nodded, then referred to Mrs. Weasley. "If it's alright with Molly."

"Just where are you all off to now?" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed, throwing her hands up. "All of this secrecy…I don't like it one bit!"

Lupin placed a hand on her shoulder and it seemed to have a calming effect. "Molly, Hermione's parents are at Grimmauld Place, and they want to see her. Harry's coming along because I must speak with him about something."

Mrs. Weasley looked at Hermione then, a softness coming over her features that Hermione had never seen before. "Of course," she said, straightening her shoulders much like Harry had earlier. "Of course. Hermione, you let them know that if they need anything, all they have to do is ask."

Hermione nodded absently, feeling almost numb. If her parents were in trouble, she didn't know what she would do. They were all she had, and if she lost them…

Ron tightened his hold on her hand then, and her wits returned to her. They were fine, and she would see to it that they always would be. That's why she was going off with Harry and Ron in the first place.

They crossed to the fireplace as a group, Ron grumbling something under his breath about the stupidity of eyebrows, and only when they were standing in front of the grate did Hermione see Ginny's face. She looked as if she was either about to burst into tears or begin tossing apart the entire living room.

Hermione's gut twisted painfully, but she couldn't focus on that right now. She had to see her parents with her own two eyes, and then she could worry about everything else.

* * *

They were thrown from the grate in the drawing room of Grimmauld Place, and Ron put a hand on Hermione's arm to keep her steady. Lupin and Harry quickly followed.

"Where are they?" Hermione asked immediately, brushing herself off haphazardly. Her eyes looked out the open doorway into the hall, as if she could force her parents to materialize by sheer will. Her eyes landed on someone, but it wasn't her parents. "Mr. Weasley?" she called out, drawing his attention to the room they were in.

Ron turned and followed her gaze. "Dad, what are you doing here?" he asked, as his father stepped into the room.

"I thought I'd come on ahead and see if I can help at all," he explained, giving Hermione an encouraging smile. "I've met your parents before, and I think they've seen enough strangers for one night."

Hermione looked thankfully at him, then turned to Lupin. "Where are they?" she repeated, this time much more calmly. Ron told himself to thank his father when he got the chance.

"They should be in the kitchen," Lupin answered. "Tonks was fixing them a bit of supper when I left earlier."

Hermione strode out of the room quickly, the rest of them following close behind. When they reached the main hall, Ron saw Hermione's parents coming toward them from the direction of the kitchen.

"Hermione!" her mother cried, quickening her pace and enveloping her daughter when she reached her. Hermione stood in her mother's embrace, her face a mask of barely contained control.

"Are you both alright?" she asked, as her mother released her and her father stepped in to hug her.

Ron saw Mr. Granger stiffen at the question, and as he released Hermione his face became drawn and very, very tired.

"If you call being taken from our home alright…worrying about you, wondering what is going on…" he said, trailing off. Then he cast a look at the portrait of Sirius' mother, which, to Ron's amazement was oddly silent despite the ruckus they were creating right under her nose.

"And if you consider being called filthy, contaminating animals by a talking portrait alright, then I suppose we're just fine," he said, reaching for his wife. Mrs. Granger didn't seem nearly as concerned with the portrait as she did with the group of people standing next to it.

Hermione's eyes were bright as she faced them, seeking Ron's out immediately. He tried smiling encouragingly, but couldn't seem to do it. Luckily, his father sensed that what they needed right now was a bit of an explanation, and he stepped forward to greet the Grangers.

"Harold…Helen," he said, extending his hand to Mr. Granger. "I wish we were meeting again under better circumstances."

Mr. Granger accepted the handshake with weariness etched into every feature on his face. "Arthur, what in the world is going on here?"

Ron's father sighed heavily at the impossible question. "I don't know if I can answer all your questions," he said, gesturing to the drawing room, "but between myself and your daughter we'll give it a go."

Ron watched as the Grangers followed his father into the other room. Hermione followed them, looking back at him quickly as if she needed reassurance of some kind. Ron didn't know what he could do to make this easier, or better, so he simply nodded at her. It must have been enough, because she gave him a faint smile and turned to follow her parents into the drawing room.

Lupin expelled a heavy breath once the door had shut between them. "I didn't know what else to do," he explained helplessly. "They didn't want to come, but I don't know how else to keep them safe."

"You did the right thing," Ron said, his eyes still trained on the door. "Hermione would agree. Their safety is the most important thing."

"Why is the portrait so silent?" Harry asked suddenly, turning to face it with disgust on his face. "Shouldn't she be spewing all that garbage she usually does whenever we set foot in this house?"

Lupin gave the portrait his own disgusted glance before leading them out of the hall and into the kitchen. "She hasn't spoken since her tirade when the Grangers first arrived. The closest thing we can come up with is that one of the thousands of spells we've tried on her finally worked."

Tonks looked up from her plate when they entered the kitchen. "I tried to keep them as calm as possible, Remus," she said, rising out of her chair and crossing to him quickly. "As soon as they heard the commotion in the other room, they took off."

"It's alright," Lupin said, smiling at her. "Hermione and Arthur are with them, and hopefully they'll be able to explain things better than either of us can."

"Wotcher Harry…Ron," Tonks said, acknowledging them over Lupin's shoulder.

"Hey, Tonks," Ron said, watching in mild amusement as Tonks tucked her hand into the crook of Lupin's arm so naturally that it left little doubt that the two of them had also found their own relationship this summer.

"Remus, have you asked him yet?" she asked, nodding her head at Harry.

"Asked me what?" Harry asked, looking back and forth between Lupin and Tonks.

Lupin pulled out a chair and motioned for Harry and Ron to do the same. "I received a letter from your aunt yesterday," he said, the look on his face showing that he had been just as surprised as Harry now was.

"You did?" Harry asked, his brows wrinkled in confusion. "Why?"

"She said you've packed your things; almost as if you were preparing to move out. She was concerned about her promise to Dumbledore, and was wondering if she should try to stop you." He kept his gaze level with Harry's. "She didn't seem aware of the fact that you're of legal age now, so I sent a reply to her. I hope you don't mind."

He paused for a moment, considering Harry closely. "I'm assuming you're going to stay at the Burrow then, until further arrangements can be made?"

For some reason, Ron felt slightly uncomfortable at the turn the conversation had made. Was Harry going to inform Lupin of their future plans? Ron turned to watch Harry closely as well. Whatever Harry decided, he'd back him up.

"Only for a week or so," Harry said, staring down at the table. "After that, I was thinking about going to Godric's Hollow for a while."

If Lupin thought it was a bad idea, he didn't say so straight off. In fact, he didn't say anything for quite some time. Then, as Tonks rose to begin putting the dishes in the sink, he leaned forward and lowered his voice.

"Do you think that's the wisest thing right now?" he asked, and Harry stiffened immediately.

"It's what I need right now," Harry answered resolutely.

Lupin leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his ragged hair. Ron thought that he had never looked so worn and tired, and that was saying quite a bit considering his monthly transformations.

"Fine," he said. "I'll make sure that someone is stationed in the neighborhood in case you need anything."

Ron could tell that Harry wanted to argue the point, but instead he nodded once and decided to close the subject. Ron figured that now was as good a time as any to bring up the letter he'd received.

"There was something we had to tell you, too," he said, straightening in his chair. He spent the next several minutes describing the letter's contents as best he could, and knew that they had been on to something when Lupin's expression changed to one of shock when he mentioned the initials.

"But that's…" he said, shaking his head, "it can't be. Regulus died the year you two were born. The date is on the Black family crest…"

"Well, if it isn't him, we sure need your help in figuring out who it is," Ron said, frustration creeping into his voice. "Because whoever it is knows Hermione and I are friends with Harry, and claims to know how he can help us with Voldemort."

Lupin ran his hands over his face tiredly, looking back at Tonks for support. "Your parents ever talk about Regulus?"

Tonks had frozen where she stood in front of the sink, her gaze not really focused on anything in particular. "No, never. My mother was always closer with Sirius."

"Maybe if you ask her now, she'll recall something that might help clear this up," he offered, getting out of his seat and placing a hand on her elbow. She looked down at his hand almost blankly, then she seemed to come to herself and nodded.

"Of course. I'll go write her now," she said, walking quickly out of the room.

Lupin watched her go, then resumed his seat across from them with a weary sigh. "Let's just assume for a moment that it is Sirius' brother, and that somehow, he was able to hide himself away all these years. Do you honestly think that anyone in the Order will allow him anywhere near the lot of you?" he asked.

"If he can help us bring down Voldemort, the Order doesn't have a choice," Harry argued emphatically. Ron watched the two of them square off against each other, tension mounting slowly in the quiet room.

"Former Death Eaters don't often prove to be trustworthy," Lupin continued quietly, pointedly. "I would assume you knew that by now."

Ron watched Harry's face drain of all color, and he stood so quickly that his chair toppled to the floor. "Snape is a murderer, a traitor and a coward! He never looked out for anyone but himself!" Harry shouted, his fists balling up at his sides. "And if R.A.B. - whoever he turns out to be - can help me find him, I'll meet with him tomorrow if he contacts me!"

Harry stormed out then, slamming the door behind him and leaving Ron and Lupin sitting across from each other in the empty silence.

"I should probably go check on him," Ron said, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. Something stopped him, however, before he pushed away from the table. Lupin's face was drawn so tight that Ron was afraid he'd pass out cold right there and then. "Look, Harry gets like this," he explained, gesturing helplessly. "He gets an idea into his head, and it's hard to talk him out of it."

"Don't you realize just how dangerous that attitude can be?" Lupin asked dejectedly. "His father was exactly the same, and there are a dozen situations I had to literally pull him out of because of his recklessness."

"Well, I kind of figure that's why we all became friends in the first place. We each have a specific role for each other," said Ron, thinking carefully on the matter. "I mean, Hermione is the logical, realistic one. She keeps Harry from making any rash decisions. I'm sure once she's sure her parents are fine she'll focus some of that rationality on Harry and he'll come to see things clearly."

Lupin considered him closely, leaning back in his chair as he did so. A small smile came to his face, dawning slowly as if he was recalling some far off memory.

"What?" Ron asked.

"What would you say your role in all of this is, then?" Lupin questioned lightly, the smile growing ever more prominent.

Ron paused before he answered. What was his role? He had spent countless nights wondering over this exact question. He knew he was not the hero, nor was he the brains. He was good for a laugh from time to time, and he wouldn't back down from a fight, but how did he truly figure in?

"I don't rightly know," he finally admitted, shrugging. "I guess I just try to be there when Harry needs me. Sometimes I have to play the go between for Harry and Hermione. I have to make Hermione see that rules need to be broken sometimes, and I have to make Harry see that she's just looking out for us."

Lupin nodded at him, then let out a soft laugh as he shook his head in amazement. "That's exactly what Sirius used to do for me and James," he said, his voice ringing with remembrance. "James would get something into his head, I would immediately shoot it down because I'd thought about all the possible outcomes, and Sirius would step in and make the decision."

His eyes took on a very far away look, and the smile faded from his face slowly. "I've lost my best friends, Ron, and I don't want to see that happen to any of you," he said in a quiet voice. "Please make Harry understand that."

Ron nodded silently, his chest tighten painfully. He looked away from Lupin, feeling almost intrusive at this moment. "I'll try," he said, getting to his feet. "Well, I'll see you at the wedding then, right?"

Lupin nodded, looking very much lost in his own thoughts. "Yes, of course," he answered. "Wouldn't miss it."

When Ron reached the hall, he stopped in the middle of it and gave himself a minute to collect his thoughts. He glanced up the stairs, assuming Harry had gone off somewhere private to stew over things for a bit. Then he looked toward the drawing room, wondering if Hermione was alright. Not knowing where he was needed most, he stayed completely still.

Barely a minute later, the drawing room door opened, and Hermione came out, wiping at her cheeks with both hands. Every muscle in Ron's body reacted at the same time, carrying him towards her without realizing he was moving.

"Is everything okay?" he asked, taking in the red puffiness surrounding her eyes. She didn't say a word; only shook her head and walked into his arms. He held her, waiting for her body to stop trembling. After some time, she pulled away from him and he could at least see some clarity in the depths of her eyes now.

"They are so angry," she said heavily. "They don't want to leave our house, their practices, their friends…but they know they have to. My mother – she looked so scared, Ron," she said, her voice shaking slightly. He kept his arms around her, trying to give her as much comfort as he could.

"Are they going to stay here, then?" he asked. She nodded, looking around the dimly lit hall.

"Not the best place, but the safest," she concluded. "At least I'll know that they'll be looked after, what with the Order still meeting here from time to time. And I think Lupin is staying here as well."

"Is my dad still in there with them?"

Hermione smiled then, a slight, sad smile; but a smile nonetheless. "Your father was amazing. He answered all their questions and was so patient with them. He reassured them in ways that I couldn't. I don't know how I'm ever going to thank him."

Ron silently agreed as Hermione laid her cheek against his chest wearily. Just then, the door opened again and their parents came out of the room. All three adults stopped short when they saw Hermione and Ron in the middle of the hall, and within an instant, they broke apart as if they'd been caught doing something indecent.

The hall became eerily quiet as Ron looked between his father and Hermione's parents. Her mother appeared shocked at first, then she looked at Hermione and a soft expression took its place. Her father had no such look on his face as he sized Ron up from across the room.

Ron's own father was looking steadily at him, as if he'd known about this all along.

"Where's Harry?" he said into the long silence, looking about the hall as if Harry would jump out from behind a potted plant or a light fixture.

"I don't know," answered Ron truthfully. "I came out here and saw Hermione upset so I…" he stopped himself, realizing that at any moment he'd probably say something incredibly stupid.

Mr. Granger took a few steps forward, still looking over Ron as if he was trying to gauge his exact height and weight. Ron squirmed under his stare, but pulled himself up as straight as he could.

"My daughter has always spoken very highly of you, Ron," Mr. Granger said, his tone one of begrudging admiration. "Every year, when she returns home, all she can talk about is you and Harry. How the two of you look after her and keep her safe. In fact, her opinion of you both is the only reason I'm trusting her to go off with the two of you this year instead of insisting she return to school."

Ron saw his father stiffen next to Mr. Granger, and his eyes closed briefly. This was not the way he wanted his father to find out about their plans.

Harry came down the main staircase just then, and Ron was never more pleased to see him in his life. His father pinned him with a stare that kept him rooted to the spot, but he spoke to the group as if nothing at all was wrong.

"Well, I'd best be getting this lot back to the house," he said. "We have a busy day tomorrow." He turned to the Grangers and shook hands with both of them. "I hope you consider coming to my son's wedding. Molly and I would love to have you."

Hermione stepped forward to hug her parents, and while she was chatting in a low voice with her mother, her father stepped forward and grasped Ron's hand, shaking it firmly.

"She is the most important thing in my life," Mr. Granger said in a low, calm voice.

Ron gulped at the increasing pressure of the hand squeezing his. "I know," he managed to say. "I won't let anything happen to her."

Mr. Granger sized him up once again, and after a moment, released the pressure on Ron's hand with a satisfied look on his face. "I believe you."

He turned then to say goodbye to Harry, and Ron felt his father's hand on his shoulder.

"When we get home we're going to sit down and have us a nice little chat, you and me," his father said, the tone of his voice indicating that there would be no getting out of it. Ron sighed and nodded in understanding, letting his father nudge him toward the fireplace so they could floo home.

* * *

**_From my end, this was a very interesting chapter to write, because it was the least shippy…but I like it. I finally have the whole story planned out where I want it to go, and I started getting antsy to write it all, but I'm tired and I have to stop. So I'll leave you with this chapter, and I will most likely have another done by tomorrow night (the wedding), and then we can get on with things._**

_**Thanks for all your suggestions and helpful points. I plan on addressing quite a few of them. I addressed the Regulus one in this chapter. I went back to OotP and read the part about his 'death'. Sirius talks about his death, but it isn't crystal clear. Enough room for me to get in there and say, hey, maybe he could still be alive. I found all the info on pg. 112 of the book if you want to go back and check it out. I'm such a dork…doing research for fanfiction! (Ah well, anything for you, my readers).**_

_**I wasn't aware of Ginny's bday, and I'm glad it was pointed out to me because her age would have in fact worked its way into the story…so now we can all just pretend that I said her bday was in August. **_

_**As always, you keep me inspired, my friends! Hopefully more to come tomorrow!**_


	6. Unexpected News

**Invisible Scars**

_**So the funniest thing…proves the power of reviewers…I didn't intend on including Ron and Mr. Weasley's conversation in this installment, but it was mentioned more than once in your reviews, so I changed my mind. See, just goes to show you that reviews are a good thing. And my reviewers are the BEST!**_

**_This chapter will be the day before the wedding, and I apologize before hand for any gaps or holes. I just really want to keep the fic moving. _**

_**Enjoy!**_

**Chapter 6 – Unexpected News**

Ron didn't have time to figure out what he was going to say to his father. The second they arrived back at the house, he took hold of Ron's elbow and walked him straight outside. Hermione and Harry were busy being pumped for information by Ginny and his mother, so no one noticed the two of them sneak out.

Once they were safely encased in the privacy of the backyard, his father let go of his arm. "Go on," was all he said, folding his arms across his chest. Ron could barely meet his gaze. Somehow, he knew that if his father didn't agree with what they were doing, that doubt would plague him the entire time he was away from home. It would cause him to slip up, and that was one thing none of them could afford.

"First off, dad," he began nervously, "I want your word that you won't tell mum about this until after the wedding."

His father narrowed his eyes at him, making him feel as if he was ten years old all over again. He squirmed as he waited for his father's response.

"Although I don't think you are in any position to be making requests, I won't say anything to your mother," his father said finally, with a glance back at the house. "I want her to have this one thing…this one time where we are all together, safe, enjoying a celebration…" He trailed off, an odd look entering his eyes. Then he shook his head as if to clear it and focused on Ron again. "You have my word."

Ron took a deep, calming breath and began to talk. He tried explaining things as clearly as he could, realizing he owed his father that much. He told him of Dumbledore's quest with Harry at the end of last year…of the horcruxes and how Harry was set on finding them…of the letter he'd received and Lupin's offer to assist them in finding out the truth behind it…of his and Hermione's refusal to allow Harry to go it alone. By the time he'd finished talking, his father looked more tired than Ron had ever seen him look in his life.

"Did you even consider what this is going to do to your mother?" his father asked, staring at him with weary eyes. "Or your sister?"

"I did," Ron said quietly. "But I can't let Harry go off by himself because mum wants me safe. And Ginny understands…at least, she knows why we've decided to do this."

"She knows, then?" his father asked, looking slightly betrayed. Ron expelled a long breath and focused his gaze on the ground in front of him. He hated this whole situation, and wondered if it would have in fact been easier to simply leave and send a letter once they were far from home.

"What are you going to do for money? Where are you going to stay? What happens if you meet up with Death Eaters and you're outnumbered?" his father asked suddenly, his voice growing stronger with each word. It was as if he realized this was a last ditch effort, and if he failed to convince Ron now, there would be no hope of it in the future.

Still, Ron would not be dissuaded. "We'll handle things as they come, dad. Harry has plenty of money, and judging by how much we've already experienced at school, we'll be no less safe on the road then we were at Hogwarts."

There was a tense moment as father and son stared at each other, each waiting for the other to relent…for very different reasons.

"You're of age," his father said finally, simply. "I can't stop you."

"No, you can't," Ron said in a low voice.

His father sighed heavily, his gaze falling away from Ron's. "You know, the last time You Know Who was in power, all of you were just children. In fact, Ginny wasn't even born yet." His face looked pained as he recalled the vivid memories. "They were dark times, and people felt sorry for your mother and me for having so many children to watch over and worry about."

He paused for a moment, turning away slightly so Ron could only see the tired profile of his father's face. "It was hard raising all of you when we were constantly terrified that something would happen to one of you. But, for all the worry it caused us, you were just children and we could keep you safe. We could protect you…shield you…" his voice faded away slowly as he ran a hand over his balding head. "Now, all of you are grown, and it's a thousand times harder to let you go than it was to protect you when you were young."

Ron kept silent as his father looked out over the back lawn. He didn't know if he could speak now if he tried, anyway. There was an ominous tightness in his throat that he tried pushing down and away so he could breathe properly, but it didn't work. The only thing he could do was stand completely still and hope his father would somehow be able to meet his eyes again.

"When do you leave?" The question was asked so mournfully that Ron felt a sharp stab of pain rip through his gut.

"A week or so after the wedding," he replied quietly.

The silence stretched between them again, and in it, Ron watched his father grapple with his decision. Finally, his father nodded, sighing wearily. "Okay then. I'll make sure you have everything you think you'll need, and I'll help you talk to your mother."

Ron considered him silently for a long moment, realizing that tonight he had seen a very different side of the man who had raised him. It was odd, in fact. He was seeing his father now as a man, and not just as his dad. He straightened his own shoulders and hoped that when his father looked at him, he saw a man as well.

"Thanks," he said.

His father looked at him with a level gaze, then put a hand on his shoulder. "I suppose you have to do what you feel is right. Just remember something, son," he said, increasing the pressure of his hand. "There are so many people who can help the three of you. You don't have to try and do it all on your own, like you lot tend to do. If you need help, let me know."

"I will," Ron promised.

There was a moment where Ron thought his father might hug him, but instead he patted Ron on the shoulder soundly, turning his head away quickly.

"Get yourself up to bed now," he said in a suspiciously thick, shaky voice. "Busy day tomorrow."

Ron nodded silently, reaching out quickly to grasp his father's arm for a split second before heading back to the house. When he reached the back door, he turned to see if his father was following him, and the sharp stab of pain he'd felt before developed into a searing ache as he watched his father put one hand against a tree, and the other over his face.

* * *

By the time Ron had made his way back into the house, everyone had retired for the night. Harry stirred when he opened the door to his bedroom, though, and questioned Ron in a groggy voice about his whereabouts after their return. Ron brought him up to speed as best he could, leaving out the devastated look on his father's face. He wasn't ready to remember that part just yet.

They dropped off into a deep sleep quickly, a testament to how crazy the day had been. Ron's dreams were haunted by so many images that it was impossible to recall any of them when his mother woke them the next morning.

"Alright, you two, time to get going," she called out through the open doorway on her way to the attic. "Much to do today, much to do."

Ron groaned and forced himself out of bed. He saw Harry feel about for his glasses sleepily, wincing when he could see his watch and realized the time.

"Your mum wants to get an early start on things, doesn't she?" he said, swinging his legs off the cot against the wall.

"I think Bill and Fleur are coming with her family around lunchtime, and by then she wanted the yard set up and the rooms ready for them," Ron grumbled, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "Do me a favor and remind me to elope when I decide to get married."

After they'd showered and dressed, they went down to the kitchen and found a blissfully empty room. There was a note on the counter written by his mother that explained that she had taken the girls to Diagon Alley to pick up all the wedding robes, and that his father had gone to the ministry to see to some last minute business.

"She says Charlie, Fred and George should be coming soon, too," he told Harry, glancing at his wristwatch. "A good thing, too, judging by the list on the other side of this note," he added, flipping it over to show Harry.

Harry didn't seem nearly as put out as Ron felt as they set about with the day's chores after breakfast. In fact, he seemed almost cheerful as they positioned the long tables in the backyard next to the garden.

Ron just shook his head and plowed on, sighing in relief when he saw his brothers crossing the yard roughly an hour later.

"About time we had a bit of help," he growled in greeting, earning a companionable shove of greeting from Charlie and a couple of sheepish shrugs from the twins.

"Harry! How've you been, mate?" Fred called out, clapping him so hard on the back that Harry stumbled into the table in front of him. "George and I have been meaning to invite you to the shop for an invention display after all this business is finished."

George grinned at Ron conspiratorially. "Yes, I believe some people found our invention room quite fascinating," he teased, then dodged quickly out of Ron's reach.

"Hello Harry," Charlie said, shaking Harry's hand in a much more civilized greeting than his younger brothers had extended. Ron was infinitely thankful that Charlie was here. He knew Fred and George well enough to realize they wouldn't have done any work if Charlie wasn't here as well to keep them moving.

Ron pointed out the list of things their mother had left them, and they began working again. Although, this time, there were more distractions and breaks than there'd been when it had just been himself and Harry. The twins were right in the middle of attempting to charm the chairs to tip anyone off who tried to sit in them when the girls arrived.

Fred let his wand drop casually as their mother made their way across the lawn to them, her eyes already shrewdly seeking out any oddities. She kissed Charlie, then began checking under the tables Fred and George were standing in front of. Ginny flung herself into Charlie's arms, scolding him for staying away so long.

Ron's eyes sought out Hermione, who was looking over the scene with a small grin on her face. He walked over to her and nudged her with his elbow. "I see that you made it through the morning alive," he said, nodding toward his mother, who was now pointing her wand directly at George's forehead and threatening him within an inch of his life.

Hermione laughed and gave him a look. "Barely. They didn't have Ginny's robes ready, and I could have sworn that your mother began speaking in tongues when they told her."

"Look, it's going to be a madhouse around here for a while, but what do you say we grab some time later to just sit somewhere and talk," he said, realizing with heightened sensitivity that Fred and George were watching his every move.

She smiled at him as his mother called out to her to follow her into the house with the clothes. "Sounds like a plan," she said over her shoulder, careful not to drag the garments on the lawn.

Ron watched her until she disappeared into the house, then caught Harry staring at the door as well. "Hey, Harry," he called out, trying to bring back the look of contentment he'd seen on his best friend's face earlier, "bet you a galleon I can finish my part of the list before you can finish yours."

Harry's expression changed as he reached into his back pocket. "You're on," he said, flicking his wand at the nearest string of lights. He yelped out in surprise when all his wand did was turn into a vicious looking plant that latched onto his fingers as if it was trying to devour his hand.

Ron laughed at him as he reached for his own wand, which he'd tucked safely under the hem of his shirt. "You know better than to leave your wand out with those two around," he said, moving to help Charlie as Fred and George rolled with laughter behind a still struggling Harry.

* * *

Hermione didn't see either Ron or Harry for most of the afternoon. Once Bill arrived with the Delacours, the tentative restraint on the household was broken and absolute pandemonium ensued. Mrs. Weasley spent the majority of the afternoon caught between fussing over Bill and hustling about the house making sure everyone was comfortable. Mr. Weasley arrived home only to find himself engaged in a severe battle between his sons, who Hermione found out later were arguing over the proper way to send Bill off on his honeymoon.

Dinner that night completely passed her by, as the conversations flew around the table with such alarming speed and sound that Hermione figured she'd be going off to sleep with a colossal headache when all was said and done. Still, she hadn't seen the Weasleys look so happy in such a long time, and it made her almost speechless. She was content enough to sit and watch them, and Harry, as they laughed and teased their way through the meal.

Very shortly after the dishes were put away and things were tidied up, Hermione heard the front door open and Mrs. Weasley cry out in surprise. She gave Ginny a questioning look, who shrugged in response, and the two of them moved into the living room to see what the commotion was all about.

Percy was being squeezed tightly by his mother, who was now sobbing openly. Mr. Weasley went over to his wife and tried to extract her from their son so he could breathe properly.

"Oh, Percy!" Mrs. Weasley cried, refusing to let go of her son. "You don't know what it means to me that you're here…you don't know…"

Hermione saw Ginny stiffen next to her, and she put a restraining hand on Ginny's arm. Ginny must have read her silent message clearly enough, because she didn't say a word as Percy extracted himself from his mother's arms.

With one look at his mother, Charlie, who was standing the closest to Percy, cleared his throat and extended a hand to his brother. "Good to see you, Perce," he said, attempting a natural smile of welcome and not quite succeeding.

"Yeah," Percy said, and Hermione instantly recognized the resignation in his tone. She had never seen Percy look so…defeated. Percy had always been the epitome of control and pompous arrogance. Now, he looked utterly at a loss as he stood before the family he had, for all intensive purposes, disassociated himself from in order to further his career.

There was a silence following the sound of Percy's voice in the room that threatened to swallow them all whole if someone didn't move soon. Hermione looked around at the Weasley siblings, wondering why they were all just standing there. Didn't they realize Percy was trying to make amends?

Then, Bill crossed the room to his younger brother and extended his hand to him. "Glad you could make it, Perce," he said. Percy hesitated only for a moment before grabbing hold of Bill's hand tightly. Bill covered their hands with his free one, and gave him a genuine smile. "I was starting to think that the invitation got lost in the post."

Percy's cheeks flushed scarlet and his eyes couldn't quite meet Bill's. "No, I got it about a week ago. I just wasn't sure if anyone wanted me here."

Mrs. Weasley uttered out a sharp cry, glaring pointedly at Fred and George as she spoke. "This is your home, Percy. You are always welcome here, and if anyone has issue with that, they can take it up with me later."

Just then, Hermione realized that Ron hadn't spoken a single word or made a single move since she'd entered the room. He was leaning against the wall, his arms folded protectively over his chest as he stared out onto his family.

The Delacours, who recognized a family moment when they saw one, retired upstairs to settle in. Hermione shared a look with Harry that clearly had them thinking of their own retreat, but Percy's next admission kept them rooted to the spot.

"No one in this room would be wrong if they never wanted to speak to me again," he said, his voice low in the now silent room. "I understand that. I have no excuses either, except that I was foolish." He looked over at Harry, who was standing beside Ron.

"I owe you a huge apology for all the things I wrote," he said, referring, Hermione knew, to the letter he'd sent Ron back in fifth year. "I had a dozen people in my ear telling me all sorts of things…I know I shouldn't have listened, but I guess I was too scared by the alternative not to."

Hermione held her breath as Harry took in Percy's apology. She knew that Percy's advice to Ron to stay away from him had stung him deeply, but she couldn't help hoping that he would forgive him. It was almost as if the rest of the room was waiting to see what Harry did, and they'd take their cue from him.

"I understand," Harry said finally, causing Hermione's pent up breath to escape silently. "It's alright. A lot of people have been wrong about things for a while now."

Percy nodded and glanced toward his father. "I know. Dad has been tracking me down all week at the ministry, telling me everything he knows about what's been going on. I started to notice the changes in the administration shortly after Dumbledore's death. Rufus Scrimgeour is strutting about the place as if he's glad the headmaster is gone. He's saying that now the ministry can go after You Know Who with the force he felt they always should have, and he's been putting many prominent wizarding families in positions they are not comfortable with." His face hardened and his eyes flashed sadly.

"He started asking me about where my parents stood on the matter, and began using me to issue the orders to those families. I just couldn't do what he wanted me to do any longer. I couldn't send parents away from their children…tearing families apart…" he trailed off.

"Let's just say I quit," he said with finality. "Dad had come to the ministry to drag me here today if he had to, just as I was handing in my resignation."

Mrs. Weasley began crying again, looking to her husband. "Arthur," she said, her voice incredibly soft.

Mr. Weasley put an arm around her and let her cry into his shirt. "We couldn't have a wedding without all of our children, now could we, Molly?"

Hermione felt her own eyes well up with tears, and she fought to hold them back. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Ron push away from the wall and silently slip out of the room. She looked to Harry to see if he was going to follow Ron, but his eyes were focused on Ginny as she stood stiffly next to Fred, watching her parents and Percy with an unreadable expression on her face.

Hermione backed out of the room quietly, knowing that no one would miss her with all that was going on. She pushed the back door open and saw Ron's shadow disappear around the corner of the house in the direction of the garden.

By the time she caught up with him, he was sitting at one of the tables he'd set up earlier that day, gazing out over the area where the wedding would be taking place in a little over twelve hours.

"Hey," she said, her voice sounding quite loud in the stillness of the evening. He turned in his chair and she could instantly see the range of emotions brewing inside of him. Ron had always worn his feelings on his sleeve.

"Hey," he responded, not quite meeting her eyes.

"Strange night, wasn't it?" she said, not really knowing what else to say. It was obvious Percy's sudden appearance had him rattled, but she didn't want to get involved. It was a family matter, and he had every right to feel however he wanted to feel.

Ron huffed and rolled his eyes, turning back around in his chair to look out over the lawn again. "Strange week, is more like it," he said.

She took the seat next to his. "A lot has happened, I'll give you that," she said, wanting to touch him very badly, but restraining herself with effort. "Did you maybe want to talk about it?" she asked.

Ron sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair with an air of impatience. "Look, it's not like I wanted Percy to stay away forever. He's my brother. I just can't get the image out of my head of my mum's face last year every time his name was mentioned. I can't simply forget what he said about Harry…" he said, his fist balling up on the table. "I guess if Harry can forgive him, I should be able to…but I guess that's why Harry is a better person than I am."

Hermione straightened her shoulders at his words and grabbed his arm, forcing him to look at her. "Don't ever say that," she demanded, meeting his gaze determinedly. "Not even joking, don't ever say that again."

Ron stared at her, his eyes focused intently on hers for a very long moment.

He broke the silence a moment later, clearing his throat. "Well, my little pity party is over. What do you say we change the subject?"

"Alright, what do you want to talk about then?" she asked, leaving her hand on his arm as if it was the most natural thing in the world. A small smile played across his face and the very tips of his ears began reddening a bit.

"I'm looking forward to the wedding tomorrow," he said in a quiet voice.

Hermione's heart leapt in her chest at his words, and she tried to conceal her pleasure by averting her face. "Me too," she admitted, her own voice sounding equally as quiet. "It should be a lot of fun."

When he was silent for a while, she had no choice but to look at him again. She found him studying the side of her face with serious eyes.

"I wasn't really talking about the wedding itself," he said.

If she didn't get her heart rate under control soon, she was afraid she'd pass out right there in front of him. She was still getting used to hearing sweet words coming from the one person who had always been able to get a rise out of her by simply looking at her the wrong way. He had always made it nearly impossible to control her emotions, but now it was completely different.

Then, in one singular flash, she realized that she didn't need to control or monitor herself any longer. She was allowed to show him how happy she was, and she found herself wanting to do so very badly.

Her hand slid down his arm, lingering on his wrist for a moment before she moved it further down and entwined her fingers with his.

"I bought new robes," she said, blushing a bit at the girlish impulse she'd given into earlier that day with Mrs. Weasley and Ginny in Diagon Alley. She had been prepared to wear her robes from fourth year, but somehow she had known that wasn't the right thing to do. With Ron, everything was new – so she figured her robes should be as well.

"You did? What do they look like?" he asked, another smile playing across his face.

"Oh no, you'll have to wait until tomorrow," she said, her entire body tingling as his thumb started to trace slow patterns on the inside of her palm.

"No fair," he chided lightly. "You got to see mine and they weren't even ready yet."

Hermione moved closer to him, their arms now touching. "Think about how you'll be surprised when you come to escort me to the wedding."

Ron's eyes laughed down into hers. "I was thinking about that earlier," he said. "What should I do…meet you at the bottom of the stairs? Next to the stove in the kitchen?"

Hermione laughed. "Maybe inside the fireplace?" His laughter joined hers, and it surrounded them in the night air.

Suddenly, his face turned serious again as he focused his eyes on their entwined hands. "How do you do it?" he asked.

"Do what?" she asked, still grinning at him.

"How do you always make me feel like everything is just fine…or that it will be?"

She didn't know what to say right away. It was another one of those comments that, if spoken by her best friend, she would have taken in stride – or at least with minimal blushing. But now, the words cut straight through her, making each nerve in her body feel as if it was touched by a live wire.

She understood in that moment that she didn't have to say anything. All she had to do was show him that everything would in fact be just fine.

She leaned toward him, reaching for his face with her free hand. She touched his cheek gently, turning his face so he was looking at her. When their eyes met, she could see what looked like desire in his eyes.

Leaning further into him, she closed her eyes and let her mouth find his on instinct. Their lips met softly, with infinite tenderness. Ron released her hand and she wanted to protest, but she understood a moment later when his hands came up to frame her face gently.

They remained like that for a while, kissing, still learning each other's mouths with slow caresses. Hermione felt herself spinning delightfully out of her normal range of control as she let her hands settle against his chest. She felt the pounding of his heart under her palms, and she smiled against his lips.

The back door banged open then, and they parted quickly, looking out across the lawn to see who was coming. They saw Ginny walking slowly, hunched as if the weight of the world was on her shoulders, toward the practice Quidditch field they'd set up last summer. A moment later, they heard the door again, and watched as Harry followed her at a safe distance, never getting close enough to seem intrusive.

When they'd disappeared from sight, Hermione sighed and turned back to him. "I kind of feel selfish when I'm around Ginny and Harry," she admitted. "I mean, here we are trying to figure out how to be together, while they're trying to figure out how to be apart."

Ron reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I know. I feel the same way, but I don't want to stop how I'm feeling about us, either."

"Neither do I," she agreed, closing her eyes as he let his fingers move around to the back of her head and get lost in her hair.

"That's good to hear," he said quietly. Without opening her eyes, she knew she was about to be kissed again, and although she really was concerned for her friends and their relationship, she was more than willing to put off thinking about them for the time being.

At least until she could once again form an actual thought, anyway.

* * *

_**Done! Not the whole thing, but this part. Sorry it is late in coming. The computer literally kicked me off of itself the other night and I was terrified it had lost what I'd worked on…but everything was fine, just delayed things a bit. **_

_**As I said before, I wasn't going to include Arthur and Ron's conversation, but I love that you all thought it would be that important. I hope I met expectations. I see Arthur as the kind of man who lives and breathes for his wife and family. The kind whose whole existence is wrapped around making them happy. **_

_**Also, the Percy part. I went back and forth about this forever. I finally came to the decision that in a close family like the Weasleys, they would never have a major family event without the whole clan. I had to bring him back to be true to what I feel this family represents. I know there may be disagreement on this, and I totally understand, because I had different thoughts about Percy as well, but it simply broke my heart to have a wedding and not have him there…so to make myself happy (I'm so selfish!) I brought Percy home.**_

**_I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. I actually worked pretty hard on the balance of the fluff and facts, and I'm pleased with how it turned out. I seriously wouldn't be doing this at all, though, if it wasn't for all of you. You truly make my day when I see your reviews. I grin like a fool, then think about them all day, then think about what I can write next to please you…_**

_**Thank you!**_


	7. These Vows We Make

**Invisible Scars**

_**Amazing words of encouragement as always. I love that even though you guys may not agree with me, you say that you can see where I'm coming from! That is the true sign of intelligent reviewers. Thank you, as always for making my day.**_

**Chapter 7 – These Vows We Make**

Hermione had never been a part of a wedding day before, and now that she was, she didn't know if she could ever do it again.

The festivities had started shortly after sun-up, when Fleur had woken her, Ginny and Gabrielle by feverishly pacing the room they were all sharing, muttering about her wedding day having finally arrived.

By the time they had all showered and dressed, the Weasley's extended family had started arriving. Hermione looked around for Ron and Harry, but couldn't find them. She didn't see Fred, George or Charlie, either. Even Percy was suspiciously absent.

When she asked Mrs. Weasley about it, she had been surprised by the terrified look that had come over the woman's face.

"You…you don't think anything happened to them, do you?" Hermione asked, now nervous for their safety. Nothing bad could happen today. That's not how things worked.

Mrs. Weasley shook her head, although the look didn't leave her eyes. "They better pray that they all make it here in their right minds, or something will most definitely happen to them," she said, almost growling as she searched the yard for her husband.

"What's going on, mum?" Ginny asked, joining them in the kitchen. "Aunt Josephine and Uncle Fabrius wanted to say hello to the boys."

Mrs. Weasley sighed in a long-suffering way and gave up searching for her husband. "A long standing Weasley tradition, I'm afraid," she said grudgingly. "The night before a man is about to be married, the other men help him celebrate his last night of 'freedom' by doing who knows what."

"Oh, a bachelor party," Hermione said, finally understanding. "I wouldn't worry too much, Mrs. Weasley. If Mr. Weasley was with them, I'm sure they'll be alright."

Mrs. Weasley grimaced, tossing a dishtowel onto the counter. "I doubt it. He's probably the one who suggested it in the first place."

Ginny giggled, then hid her smile behind her hand when her mother turned to her with a sharp glare. "Sorry," she said, not looking sorry in the slightest.

By the time Fleur put her bridal robes on in Mr. and Mrs. Weasley's room, Hermione was thoroughly exhausted. She looked around the small room and wondered how they were all fitting. Ginny and Gabrielle were helping Mrs. Delacour fix the back of the robes so they hung perfectly from Fleur's body, and Hermione was waiting patiently with the tiara Mrs. Weasley's great-auntie Muriel had indeed lent her for the occasion.

When Fleur was ready, Hermione handed the glittering headpiece to her and watched as the beautiful bride to be fastened it to her long, shimmering hair.

"Oh, dear…you look positively stunning," Mrs. Delacour said, weeping openly when her daughter beamed at her praise. Mrs. Weasley joined in, dabbing at the corners of her eyes.

With Fleur ready, Ginny and Hermione left to get dressed themselves. Hermione was just putting the finishing touches on her hair when Ginny called out to her from her window.

"They're back," she said, her voice shaking with mirth. She pointed out onto the lawn and Hermione looked out through the curtains. Mr. Weasley was entertaining members of his family, one arm supporting Fred at his side. Fred looked a little worse for the wear, but seemed to be handling himself generally well. She shifted her eyes to the other patches of red hair she saw on the lawn and spotted Ron and Harry talking with an older red headed couple. Both seemed alright, although a couple of times she saw Ron reach up to rub his temples and whenever they moved, Harry seemed to be a step behind himself.

"As long as Bill is okay, I think mum will let them live," Ginny said, giggling. "At least for today."

Hermione turned to Ginny and gave her a genuine smile of approval. "You look positively lovely," she said. "Harry is going to just about fall out of his chair when he sees you walking down the aisle."

Ginny's eyes lit up for a moment, then she cleared her throat and moved away from the window. "It doesn't really matter anymore, does it?" she asked, suddenly looking incredibly sad.

Hermione wanted to hit herself. Why had she gone and said something so insensitive? "I'm sorry Ginny. I wasn't thinking."

"It's alright. This isn't the day to be worrying about all of that," she said, straightening her shoulders and adopting an air of light optimism. "I have to focus on the positives today."

Hermione smiled at her, marveling at her strength. "That's right," she said, handing Ginny her lip gloss. "You're brother is getting married, your whole family will be here, and you're getting a sister today."

Ginny pulled a face at her as she applied the gloss to her lips. "I said the positives, Hermione."

"Come on, Fleur isn't that bad," Hermione offered. "She really loves Bill, and that's all that's important."

Ginny huffed, but her face gave her away. "I know. But as far as being a sister to me, she'll have to get in line," she said, tossing the lip gloss back to Hermione. "I kind of feel like I already have one."

Hermione stayed silent for a moment, letting Ginny's words penetrate. When they did, she felt a slight stinging behind her eyes. "You do?" she asked, fighting to keep her tone even.

Ginny laughed at the barely controlled expression on Hermione's face. "Of course I do," she said, putting a few extra pins in her hair to keep it still. "Ron has always looked at Harry as a brother…why should it be surprising that I look at you like a sister?"

Hermione sank onto the edge of Ginny's bed and worked hard to keep the tears away. She hated crying in front of Ginny, since Ginny seldom ever cried. She cleared her throat and played with the material of her robes.

Ginny turned to her then, and laughed again at Hermione's expression. "Oh, no you don't. You're not ruining your makeup on account of me," she said, crossing over to her and pulling her off the bed. "Come on, let's go downstairs before my mother sends out a search party."

They hugged quickly and, laughing, descended the stairs together.

Ginny was immediately pulled away by Mrs. Weasley to talk to several other relations, leaving Hermione by herself in the living room. That suited her just fine. She was due to meet Ron any minute, and for some inexplicable reason, she was terribly nervous.

Even though they had spent so much time together over the last few days, talking and…well, not talking…she still looked at this as their first date. It made her hands a bit shaky and her heart a bit fluttery. She reminded herself to breathe, and it helped slightly until she heard his voice coming from the kitchen.

"I will, mum. Just give me five minutes."

He entered the living room then, and when he saw her, he stopped. She allowed herself a moment to really look at him, and found herself smiling instantly. He looked amazing in his robes; even better than he had when she'd first seen him in them. They appeared to be made for him. He looked distinguished and refined, and she noted with some surprise that his usually unruly hair seemed to be behaving itself quite nicely.

"Hi," she said, the wave of nervousness washing over her again. He hadn't said anything since entering the room. Did he not like her new robes? Her hair?

"Hi," he said, his voice barely audible in the room. He took a step toward her, and she could see his eyes more clearly. They didn't look disappointed after all; in fact, his eyes were gliding over her slowly with appreciation in their depths.

She smiled despite herself and met him halfway. "You look wonderful," she said, wanting to reach over and touch his face very badly, but realizing they were in the middle of a living room that could, at any moment, be flooded with people, she refrained.

"So do you," he said, smiling at her. They remained like that, simply staring at each other with silly grins on their faces, until George burst into the room excitedly.

"Ron, you have to see this!" he said, grabbing his brother's arm. "It's a bloody invasion of beautiful women!"

He dragged Ron over to the window facing the backyard and pushed him up against it. "Fleur's friends just arrived," George continued, pointing out to the lawn. Hermione came up behind them and saw six tall, blonde women in flowing, sparkling robes crossing the lawn and approaching the house.

She looked away from the intimidating sight, then down at her own peach-colored robes. She straightened her shoulders, refusing to feel inferior, but wondering what Ron was thinking all the same. She chanced a glance at him, but his face was unreadable as he watched the women approach.

George clapped him on the back. "What do you say we go meet them at the door and welcome them properly into our home?" he asked, fixing his robes unnecessarily and running a hand over his hair.

Ron turned away from the window then. "Can't, George," he said, extending his arm to Hermione. "I'm taking Hermione to her seat."

George stopped dead in his tracks, watching as Hermione slid her hand around Ron's elbow. "Well, I'll be…" he said, giving his brother a look somewhere between pity and pride. "By the way, Hermione," he added, winking boldly at her, "you look positively stunning."

Hermione realized that if she didn't stop smiling soon, her face would probably freeze into a permanent grin. She couldn't seem to help it, though. As George bounded off to rescue six women from a life without the pleasure of his company, she stepped closer up against Ron's side.

"You can go with him, you know," she said. "I won't get mad or anything. One of your jobs today is to welcome the guests."

He shook his head, looking down into her face intently. "I'm fine where I am," he said.

She suddenly didn't care who could come walking into the room. She touched his cheek with her free hand and raised up to kiss him on the cheek, letting her lips linger on his skin for a long while.

When she broke away, she could see that same desire in his eyes that she had seen last night. It was taking some getting used to…seeing her best friend look at her like that, but she liked it. She liked it a lot.

His eyes focused on her mouth and his head began dipping toward hers, but he straightened quickly and cleared his throat.

"Come on," he said, his voice sounding funny. "I have to get you settled so I can go see what my mum needs now."

He walked her across the lawn, stopping at the row of seats Harry was seated in. She released his arm and turned to face him squarely. "See you after the ceremony," she said, wanting nothing more than to kiss him soundly before he went off again. She looked around her and realized that would be an impossibility, what with all of the family and friends now taking their own seats. Harry, himself, was looking at them with a knowing grin on his face.

"Kind of like being under a microscope, huh," she said laughing. Ron gave her a funny look, and she laughed again. "It's a muggle piece of machinery that…well, nevermind."

Lupin and Tonks arrived, waving at them and taking seats on the other side of Harry. "Go ahead," Ron said, gesturing toward the seats. "I'll meet up with you after the pictures and stuff. Bill said last night that it shouldn't take too long."

With one last look at her, he turned resolutely and crossed the lawn back toward the house. Hermione watched him go, then took the empty seat next to Harry.

"You look great, Hermione," Tonks said, leaning across Harry and smiling at her openly. "Ron could barely take his eyes off you," she added, letting her voice drop. Harry laughed, then looked at Hermione in alarm.

"I wasn't laughing at you," he explained quickly. "You do look nice…It's just, I'm sitting right here," he said, turning now to Tonks, who shrugged sheepishly then folded her hand in Lupin's.

Lupin looked over at them and dropped his own voice. "By the way, we have some information on what we were discussing the other day," he said. "Now is obviously not the time, but maybe later, after everyone leaves, we can talk." Harry nodded, and Lupin turned his attention to Tonks, who was fussing with the collar of his robes.

Hermione tugged on the arm of Harry's robes and leaned toward him. "So, what did you guys do last night?"

Harry grinned, then wiped it away just as quickly. "Nothing much," he said, looking incredibly interested in the guests taking their seats in front of them. "We all decided to sleep at Fred and George's…you know, give you guys the house to get ready."

"That was very thoughtful of all of you," Hermione muttered, looking thoroughly amused.

"So, how was Ginny this morning?" he asked, clearly not so much changing the subject as he was really wondering how she was doing. "She was so thrown by Percy coming home last night that she barely wanted to talk about it. I thought that maybe after she slept on things a bit, she'd feel better."

Hermione nodded. "I think she's fine. She didn't mention anything to me this morning about it, and she seemed to be in a good mood." Harry looked relieved at the information, and Hermione put a hand on his arm. "Wait until you see her, Harry. She looks fantastic."

"No doubt," he said, a far away look coming into his eyes. "She could wear a paper sack and look fantastic." He suddenly blushed, remembering that Hermione was sitting there, looking embarrassed at his outburst. Then he cleared his throat and his face became as impassive as before.

Hermione wondered how Harry could do it…turn his emotions on and off like that. She had only been at this for a few days now, but she knew that to turn off how she felt about Ron would be near impossible. She sighed, feeling sorry for her friends. She wished that there was something that could be done to make things easier on both of them.

Music suddenly drifted to them through the air, and Hermione turned in her seat to see the Weasley men walking across the lawn. Hermione had to admit, the entire family certainly cut dashing figures. Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Percy and Ron walked single file down the aisle, and when Ron passed her he flashed her a quick grin. She smiled in return and watched as Bill and Charlie stood in front of the elderly wizard that would be performing the ceremony as the others took seats in the front row.

Next came Mrs. Delacour, then Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Hermione smiled at the look of barely contained emotion on Mrs. Weasley's face. She would consider it a great feat of strength indeed if Mrs. Weasley made it through the ceremony without completely breaking down.

The song changed to a much softer tune, and Fleur's friends practically glided down the aisle, taking their seats gracefully. Hermione watched George shove Fred in the side and nod his head toward the women, who were looking across the aisle at the Weasley men as if they had never seen anything quite like them.

Ginny came down the aisle next, and Hermione smiled at her friend. She looked absolutely stunning as she joined her brothers in the first row. Hermione felt Harry go still next to her, and she glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. He was staring at Ginny as if there wasn't another single person out here on the lawn with them, and she saw his hands clench into fists in his lap. She reached over and laid a hand over one of his fists supportively, feeling him relax slightly at the contact after a moment.

Gabrielle preceded her older sister, walking very quickly and keeping her eyes trained on the ground in front of her feet. She stood on the other side of the wizard, her face glowing red from all the eyes trained on her. Bill gave her an encouraging smile, and Gabrielle's whole face lit up. It was obvious she was crazy about her soon to be brother-in-law.

Hermione saw everyone stand up, and as she got to her feet she saw Fleur and her father at the head of the aisle.

"Wow," she heard Harry say quietly next to her. She had to agree. She'd seen Fleur get ready for the day, but now, standing there with all eyes on her, she looked positively ethereal. Her own gaze was trained down the aisle, on her future husband. The smile that crossed her face then further transformed her beauty, and Hermione felt the sting of tears behind her eyes. She had made a promise to herself not to cry…not to turn into the typical cliché woman who broke down at weddings, but she found that she couldn't help it.

Fleur and Mr. Delacour walked slowly down the aisle toward Bill, who looked as if he was going to pass out cold where he stood. His face was stark white, his eyes glued to Fleur. When she finally reached him, Charlie had to nudge him forward to get him to move.

Bill shook Mr. Delacour's hand, then turned to Fleur. They stared at each other for a quiet moment, completely absorbed, before turning as one to face the wizard.

"Friends and family, we come here today to celebrate the joining of two lives; William Arthur Weasley and Fleur Lienne Delacour…"

* * *

Ron had to hand it to his parents – they knew how to throw one hell of a party. Even from where he stood, taking pictures with his family and the new bride and groom, he could see the guests thoroughly enjoying themselves.

He spotted Hermione among the crowd, laughing at something Harry had just said. His chest constricted tightly at the sight of her. She looked unbelievable today. When he'd come into the living room and saw her waiting for him, his initial reaction was to grab her and kiss her until she couldn't stand up properly. His common sense had taken over, of course, but that hadn't erased the feeling. In fact, all throughout the ceremony, he had to keep himself from turning around just to look at her again.

When his father announced that the pictures were now finished, he began making his way directly toward her. Before he got to her, however, he was grabbed by another one of his aunts who wanted to exclaim over how tall he had gotten. By the time she released him, his mother was signaling for everyone to take their seats and enjoy their dinners.

Ron caught Hermione's eye across the distance that separated them, and he shrugged helplessly. She smiled at him and waved him off, joining Harry, Lupin, Tonks, and two friends of Bill's at a table. Ron sighed and joined his sister and brothers at their own designated table.

He tried to eat, but his stomach wasn't cooperating. It started to scare him, actually, because he'd never had food in front of him and not been able to eat it. It plagued him all throughout dinner, as he listened to his brothers laughing over this and that and taking turns teasing Ginny, who was simply beaming at all of the attention.

He looked over at the small table that Bill and Fleur were sitting at, and noticed that neither of them were eating either. They were talking quietly, their heads bent towards each other's intimately. Ron felt his chest tightening again and looked away, his eyes falling on his parents. They, too, were talking quietly to each other, and when his mother laughed and swatted at his father's arm playfully, the tightness in his chest increased almost painfully.

After the dishes were whisked away and the tables in the middle were moved to the side, the music came on again as if from nowhere and couples began moving onto the makeshift dance floor. By now, Ron didn't feel so good. He knew he wasn't sick, but for the life of him, he couldn't move his legs.

He saw his entire family, immediate and extended, take to the floor and begin celebrating the day properly. He saw Lupin and Tonks laughing at each other as they clumsily moved about the other couples, doing their best not to trample anyone else. He watched closely as Ginny approached Harry and silently held out her hand to him. Hermione was grabbed up by Fred, who tugged her onto the floor. She looked over at him, almost as if for permission, and he nodded once. Whatever had a hold on him was not letting up, and he could do little more than watch everyone as they set about celebrating the day.

Figuring he could use a bit of a drink, he finally got his legs to work and made his way to the table that was loaded down with them. He grabbed a butterbeer and stood on the edge of the crowd, his eyes taking in everything before him. He took a sip of his drink, swallowing it down with great difficulty. _What the hell is wrong with me?_ he wondered in frustration, setting the bottle down with a thump. His parents danced by just then, laughing together and waving at him as they passed.

He swung his gaze away from them and it landed, as if drawn by an invisible force, on Hermione. She was being twirled rapidly under Fred's arm over and over again, and she was laughing almost hysterically. She was red faced but clearly having the time of her life as Fred launched them into an impromptu dance somewhere between a tango and a waltz.

His head grew fuzzy and he wondered then if he really might be sick. He couldn't seem to get a hold of himself, and he couldn't figure out why. He felt completely…overcome.

That was it. As soon as he thought it, he knew that was it. Everyone he loved was in the same place, happy, healthy, safe, enjoying themselves and each other. Tonight, thoughts of war and what could happen seemed so far away. Tonight, none of that could touch them.

It was all a bit too much. He sank down into the nearest chair and tried to get a hold over himself. Thoughts and images were running through his brain at such an alarming speed that he felt as if he was going to pass out. He heard Hermione laugh again, and it was almost his undoing. He looked over to her and found her extracting herself from Fred's arms, waving off his invitation to continue their dance.

Her eyes scanned the yard quickly, and when they found him, the most beautiful smile crossed her face. Without realizing it, he had gotten to his feet. She made her way over to him, her eyes dancing merrily as she approached.

"You've got to save me from your brother," she said, laughing all the while. "I don't think I can take much more and get out of it alive."

He stared at her as she reached past him for a bottle of butterbeer. Her face was glowing with happiness. In fact, he had never seen her look more breathtaking.

"Are you okay?" she asked, offering him the bottle. He shook his head at her offer, but couldn't find his voice to answer her question. The merriment left her eyes and was replaced with concern. "Ron, are you feeling alright?"

Somewhere in the back of his mind it registered that the music had changed to a slower song, and suddenly he wanted nothing more than to have Hermione in his arms.

"Do you want to dance with me?" he asked, extending a hand to her. She studied him carefully for a moment before sliding her smaller hand into his.

"Yes," she said, the look of happiness returning to her face.

He led them out among the crowd, not even noticing who was around them. When he turned to face her, they came together almost effortlessly. She fit against him as if she belonged there, and he wrapped one arm around her securely, gently guiding her around.

"Are you sure you're alright?" she asked, looking up into his eyes. "You've had this look on your face all night. I could see it all throughout dinner."

"I'm fine," he answered, and he meant it. In fact, he couldn't remember a time he'd ever felt this alright about anything.

She seemed satisfied, if not by his words than by the look on his face, because she smiled up at him softly. "I'm having an absolutely wonderful time, by the way," she said.

"Me too." He pulled her closer, not really caring at this point who was watching and who wasn't. He wanted to hold her, and that's just what he was going to do. They moved together, as if they'd danced a million dances together before tonight, and eventually she dropped her cheek to his chest. He knew she could hear his heart racing a mile a minute, but he didn't care. He just didn't care about any of that stuff any longer. She was here, in his arms. What did he care if she knew just how crazy he was about her? She had a right to know. She deserved to know…

Then he stopped in his tracks. Did she know? He knew they had been making small steps with each other over the last few days, and he had assumed that because they were now kissing each other, mostly whenever they felt like it, that she knew how he felt.

But did she really know?

Suddenly it was the most important thing he could think of. If she didn't know how he felt about her, she sure as hell was about to find out. He pulled away from her and grabbed her hand. "Come with me," he said, nodding his head toward the house.

"Al…alright," she stammered, looking thoroughly confused by his behavior. She allowed herself to be pulled along beside him, and he tried to be as careful as possible to keep his strides short so she could keep up.

He pushed through the kitchen door and once they were both inside, he placed her in front of him against the counter. She now looked downright concerned for him.

"Ron, what's going on?" she asked, placing a hand on his arm. "You're behaving so strangely…"

"Hermione, I need to tell you something, and I don't want you to interrupt," he said, cutting her off. She looked taken aback at his abruptness, but he continued all the same. It was as if he'd pushed a button in his head that wouldn't allow him to stop until he'd said what he needed to say.

"I've been acting funny all night because I realized how lucky I am. My family is all here, and although Percy still has a lot of explaining to do, it seems like all that happened doesn't really matter compared to all of this. Bill's married, my parents are happy, Ginny and Harry are…well, they're figuring stuff out, Fred and George are hitting on beautiful women…" he trailed off, knowing that he was sounding more and more imbecilic by the minute. Still, he didn't care.

"And you," he said, holding her gaze steadily with his own. "I don't know if you realize just how crazy I am about you. I think about you all the time…when we're not together I'm wondering what you're doing and when I'll see you again, and when we're in the same room I can't focus on anything else but you."

Hermione's eyes were growing wider with each word he uttered, a look of shock on her lovely face. He knew it was a lot to take in, but still, he didn't care. She needed to hear this, finally, once and for all. No more of this in between stuff where they were more than friends but not quite anything else. No more.

"I'm happy with you," he continued, reaching down for her hand. "I just want you to know that. I'm happier than I've ever been and that's because of you."

When he'd finished speaking, he was met with silence. Her eyes were very bright, and she looked as if she was struggling with what to say to him. There was the briefest of moments in which Ron felt that maybe she didn't feel the same way, but when she squeezed his hand, all doubts disappeared as if they had never existed in the first place.

"I – I don't know what to say," Hermione whispered finally, shaking her head slowly from side to side.

"Well, you could say that you're happy with me, too," he offered, raising her hand to his lips and trailing kisses along her knuckles. She watched the movement in mild fascination, shaking her head again.

"I can't do that, because happy doesn't even come close to what I'm feeling right now," she said, closing her eyes as his mouth moved to her wrist. He could feel her pulse racing against his lips, and he sighed when she brought her free hand up to cradle his cheek.

Their eyes met then, locking onto each other's with an intensity that neither of them were quite prepared for. Ron closed the last inch of space between them, trapping Hermione against the counter. He dropped her hand and wound his arms around her back, pulling her flush against him.

Their lips came together then, softly at first. It was not enough for either of them any more though, and their kiss deepened – the intensity building slowly but steadily, until both were practically leaning on the other for some semblance of support.

Ron could feel himself spiraling out of control, and somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind he knew they had to stop. If they didn't stop soon…

His body was reacting to her in ways that were not necessarily new to him, but nevertheless unsafe. He pulled away, his breathing ragged, and he smiled to himself when he heard how labored her own was.

She leaned her forehead against his, taking a moment to compose herself. He closed his eyes, moving his head slightly so their cheeks brushed against each other's softly, before burying his face in the crook of her neck.

"So I take it this means we're officially together," she said.

He laughed, the sound muffled against her skin, causing her to laugh, too.

He pulled back and kissed the tip of her nose. "I think snogging in my parents' kitchen definitely means we're officially together," he answered.

She smiled up at him. "Do you think anyone's noticed we're gone?"

"Who cares?"

She laughed then, the sound reverberating through him like music. "Weren't you the one so worried about me being painted as a scarlet woman years ago?"

"Point taken," he said, grabbing her hand again. "Alright, we can go back outside, but you have to promise me you won't go off dancing with all my brothers and leave me sitting at a table by myself all night."

"I think your brothers have enough distractions in the form of Fleur's friends," she said, as they pushed open the back door and moved across the lawn. Sure enough, when they were close enough to see the crowd again, Fred was dancing with an incredibly leggy blonde, and Charlie was holding court at a table, rolling up his sleeves to show off his scars.

As they neared the dancing couples, Hermione's hand began to slip away from his, but he wouldn't let it. She caught his meaning quite clearly, and kept it where it was, safe inside his own.

They moved together silently, dancing a bit too slow for the music that was currently playing. Neither of them cared. Ron smiled down at her, and when she smiled back, she looked so serene and lovely that Ron couldn't help wanting to kiss her again.

This time, he lowered his lips to hers, regardless of the dozens of people surrounding them. He wasn't going to hold back any longer when it came to Hermione, and whoever felt the need to stare in surprise was free to do so.

* * *

_**Very hard chapter to write! Very fluffy, but had to be done. Weddings aren't the greatest place for angst and severe plot twists. I also wanted to move Ron and Hermione to the next level. The next chapter or two coming up will be more than worth it, though. I have some really good ideas. I'm excited to write them, it's just finding the time to do so that will be the slight problem! **_

_**As always, I thank you for sticking with this. I'm thinking it will be 10 chapters total. Nice round number. I also want to thank you for your detailed reviews. They truly help me keep this focused. Now I know to keep it dialog centered, keep them in character, balance the fluff and actual plot, do my research…all of the things that make this story solid are because of you guys. You keep it on the right track by letting me know what you appreciate. Thanks! **_


	8. Behind Her Eyes

**Invisible Scars**

**_Okay, so I just saw the new new trailer for Goblet of Fire (my favorite book in the series thus far) and I am positively giddy! Really…I'm not kidding. There are three now that I've seen, and I love them all. I have a countdown to the big day at work with my co-worker who is also a fan! _**

_**I love how your reviews get more and more detailed. I find it incredibly helpful to know what is working…ask, and you shall receive, right?**_

_**I also love that this story is being enjoyed by all of you. It really makes me feel good to know that something I enjoy doing so much is passing that enjoyment on. Writing has always been my release, and I've needed it badly the past few weeks. Thank you, all of you, for having participated in this with me. I want you to know that I look over your reviews more than once to take them all in. I have never had people be so encouraging in all my life…I'll never be able to say how much that means to me.**_

**Chapter 8 – Behind Her Eyes**

As the last of the guests began apparating home, Harry saw Lupin coming toward him across the lawn. He looked away quickly, feeling quite ashamed over his behavior at Grimmauld Place two days ago. He knew he'd acted like a child, yelling and storming off to brood in private, but at the time, all he'd wanted to do was hit something, and he didn't figure Ron or Lupin would have been too pleased to be the recipient of his misplaced anger.

"Harry, do you have a minute?" Lupin asked as he approached. Harry nodded, looking around for a quiet place where they could talk. His gaze fell on Ron and Hermione, who were sitting too close to leave any doubt in anyone's mind about the current status of their relationship.

"Should I get Ron and Hermione?" he asked, gesturing to where they sat with their heads inclined towards each other's, engaged in a quiet, private conversation.

Lupin nodded. "I think it would be best. You would only tell them later anyway," he pointed out. Harry nodded and started off for the table where his friends sat. Before he got there, however, Mrs. Weasley wandered over, stumbling the last few feet. Mr. Weasley was close behind, a very amused expression on his face.

As Harry got closer, he saw Mrs. Weasley cradling Hermione's cheeks in her hands, and he could hear her blubbering on quite unintelligibly.

"I always thought you two would…then again, what with the Daily Prophet and Harry…but it was Ron all along…who ever said opposites…I just knew, like mothers do…and oh, I couldn't be more pleased," Mrs. Weasley went on, obviously half-drunk and half-overcome by the outpouring of emotions of the day. Mr. Weasley shook his head slowly, letting a very confused and slightly scared Hermione know that whatever his wife was saying was indeed all good things.

"Come on, Molly. I think we should turn in, don't you?" he asked, gently pulling her hands off Hermione's face. Ron was openly laughing at his mother, who turned to him with a sappy look displayed across her features.

"My little boy, Arthur, he's found love, he has!" she exclaimed, ruffling Ron's hair and beginning to cry all at the same time. "And it was with the girl he's known since he was a child! I have never seen anything so romantic…"

"Of course you have, dear," Mr. Weasley said patiently, now removing her hands from his son's head. "We met in school as well, remember?"

Mrs. Weasley spun into her husband's arms and kissed him soundly on the cheek. "How could I forget? Second year…a scrawny little boy knocked me down in the corridors outside of Charms and I was never the same…"

Ron was now trying his best to hide his grin behind his hand while Hermione giggled into hers. Harry closed the remaining distance between him and the table and Mr. Weasley took it as a sign to cart his wife off to bed.

"Leave all of this until tomorrow," he said, pulling his wife's arm across his shoulders. "And don't stay out here too late. It's not really safe to be…" he trailed off. His eyes locked onto Ron's and then swung to Harry and Hermione respectively. "Well, I suppose you know all of that."

With a wave over his shoulder and one last exclamation of the beauty of young love from Mrs. Weasley, they disappeared into the house.

"I've never seen my mother so snockered," Ron said, shaking his head. "She must've found dad's firewhiskey. Always had a bad reaction to firewhiskey."

Harry gestured over toward where Lupin still stood, now joined by Tonks. "Lupin said he has some information about R.A.B. for us," Harry said, acknowledging them with an inclination of his head. Hermione's eyes immediately took on the focused look they always did when she was about to receive new information.

"Did he find out if it was Sirius' brother?" she asked excitedly.

Harry laughed at her enthusiasm. "I don't know. He hasn't told me a thing yet. I wanted to come get you two first."

Hermione leapt out of her chair and pulled Ron up along with her. "Come on," she ordered to the both of them. "I've been dying to find out anything about this."

Ron and Harry could do little else than practically jog to keep up with her as she crossed the lawn at top speed. Along the way, their paths crossed with Ginny's, who was saying goodbye to the last relative left at the house. There was a loud pop and the older woman disappeared, leaving Ginny alone to face the three of them.

"Hey, where are you lot off to in such a hurry?" she asked, her eyes still sparkling from the merriment of the evening. As she looked from one to the other in succession, however, the sparkle in her eyes dulled, leaving a very hollow look in its place. She turned to see Lupin and Tonks sitting at a table waiting for them, and when she faced them once again, Harry's gut wrenched so painfully he thought he would be sick.

Ginny looked more alone than he'd ever seen her look. She was no longer staring at Ron or Hermione. Her eyes were trained directly on his; very sad, resigned eyes. "I see," she said quietly. "Don't let me hold you up, then."

She ducked her head and stepped around them. Harry put his hand out to stop her, but she was already out of reach. He watched her walk back to the house, and he took a step to go after her…then stopped. Then, another step – just one – before he stopped again.

He stayed like that so long that Hermione had to grab hold of his arm. "Come on, Harry," she said gently. "Lupin and Tonks are waiting for us."

Harry walked along with them and sank dejectedly into the seat across from Lupin when they reached the table. He would have to find a way to smooth things over with Ginny. He had to. He couldn't stand her being so upset any longer. There had to be a way to keep her a part of things and keep her safe all at the same time…

"I heard from my mother yesterday," Tonks said, breaking into Harry's thoughts. "She says that she doesn't remember much about Regulus, since by the time he was old enough to hang around with the older cousins, Sirius had already left home. She did say that she remembers him being a very pleasant little boy; very polite and in a state of complete hero-worship of Sirius."

Lupin leaned forward in his chair. "The problem is, I don't recall Sirius being all that fond of his brother. Actually," he said, correcting himself, "that's not true. He never really mentioned his brother much. It was more the rest of his family that he didn't hold with. The only time he even mentioned he had a little brother was in our third year when McGonagall asked us if we had any siblings at home that would be terrorizing the castle any time soon. Other than that, nothing."

Tonks sighed and her purple-streaked hair mellowed into a soft violet. "Mum reckons that Regulus joined up with You-Know-Who when he turned of age. The thing that bothered her, though, was when I told her that we couldn't find anything concerning him in the house. She swore up and down that Sirius' mother was the quintessential document keeper. She almost took on the role as if it was an honor among a family with such a 'pure' lineage and such contributions to the wizarding world." She said all of this with a slight sneer on her face, her tiny nose wrinkled in disgust.

Hermione gave her an odd look. "There's not one single piece of evidence that Regulus even existed anywhere in the Black family home?"

"Except for the family crest, nothing," Tonks answered, shaking her head. "Mum says that sounds dodgy. The Black family was nothing if not obstinately and snobbishly proud of themselves…except Sirius of course," she added quickly.

Lupin laughed, the sound so quiet that at first Harry didn't think he had heard anything at all. "No, you had it right straight off. It's just that Sirius put his pride to good use." His eyes crinkled at the corners, and it seemed to Harry that he was trying desperately not to get caught up in the past. "At least most of the time."

"So what do we do now?" Ron asked, obviously disappointed that there wasn't more to go on. He looked back and forth between Lupin and Harry, waiting for one of them to make the first move.

It was Hermione, however, that tossed out the only logical conclusion. "We'll need to search the house again for something, anything, that could help us understand Regulus better. We can't meet him until we know we can trust him."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but Ron cut him off. "I agree." He turned and pinned Harry with a pointed look. "We're not going to rush into this until we know if he's on our side or not. Too much is at stake…too many people involved."

Harry read his meaning loud and clear. If it was just him going off in search of the horcruxes and, ultimately, Voldemort, he could justify trusting about any and everyone if he thought they would lead him to his destination – for the folly would be his and his alone if he was wrong.

He saw Ron look at Hermione out of the corner of his eye, and Harry sighed. Of course Ron was right. He needed to go about this as Hermione would – logically and with a level head.

"Alright," he said, agreeing to Hermione's suggestion. "Would it be possible to look around over the next few days?" he asked Lupin.

Lupin looked mildly surprised. "You don't need to ask permission, Harry. Sirius left the house to you, after all. It's yours to do with it what you want."

Harry sighed again, the ache in his chest intensifying. He didn't want the house. He would give it up in the merest of seconds if it meant one more day with his godfather. "We'll be over tomorrow then," he said.

After Lupin and Tonks left, Harry excused himself from the table to give Hermione and Ron a chance to say a proper goodnight to each other. Besides, he wanted to check on Ginny and make sure she was alright before he turned in himself.

The house was eerily silent in contrast to the raucous party that had been going on only an hour before. He crept quietly through the kitchen and was about to go up the stairs to Ginny's room when his eyes fell on a shock of red hair splayed across the arm of the sofa in front of the fireplace.

He crossed the floor carefully, knowing that the boards sometimes creaked if stepped on the wrong way, and saw Ginny sleeping curled up on her side.

There was a full minute where all he did was look at her. She was more beautiful to him now than she'd ever been, from the fiery silkiness of her hair to the tiny toes peeking out from under the hem of her robes. His breath caught in his chest as she sighed in her sleep, her long eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks.

He turned to go, realizing that it was only slow torture to watch over her like this – and rammed his knee directly into the corner of the end table.

"OW!" he yelled out, before he could stop himself. Ginny stirred quickly, opening her eyes and rubbing at them confusedly.

"Harry?" she asked, letting her eyes adjust to the low light coming into the room. "What is it? What's the matter?"

"Stupid end table," Harry swore, sinking into the armchair next to the sofa. "Introduced it to my kneecap right enough."

Ginny pushed herself into a sitting position, looking positively fetching as her tousled hair tumbled over her shoulders, her sleepy gaze finding his in the dark. "Are you alright?" she asked.

"Never better," he said sarcastically, not thinking about the end table at all.

There was a moment where the silence crept in between them, where Harry knew that he needed to say something to make what happened before all better. The problem was, he didn't know what that something was.

"You didn't have to leave earlier," he said finally, figuring that it was at least a start.

"Yes, I did," she responded immediately, pulling her gaze from his and looking into the empty, unlit fireplace.

"Why? You know I would tell you whatever we talked about anyway," he said.

Ginny shook her head, her hair swishing against her back in a motion that Harry found oddly endearing despite the seriousness of their conversation. "No, I think it's better that I don't know. I know myself too well. If I knew what you guys did, but I wasn't able to go with you, it would drive me crazy. At least this way, with me left in the dark, I won't wonder what I'm missing by not being there."

Harry stared at the side of her face, wishing that he knew what to say to her.

What he wanted to say, he knew he couldn't. It would only make things worse. Still, all of the unspoken words piled up inside him so quickly that he was afraid they'd spill out at any moment. So he said the first thing that came to him.

"We're going to Grimmauld Place tomorrow. You should come with us."

She finally turned to face him, the look of resignation on her face turning into one of anger. "Have you heard a word I've said?" she asked incredulously. "I can't be a part of some things and then excluded from others. I'm not some puppy that will be happy with the small scraps you're willing to throw my way!"

"That's not what I meant…" Harry began, but she cut him off quickly.

"I know what you meant. You'll have to forgive me if I don't think that accompanying you to that dark, depressing house is enough," she said in a harsh voice.

"Ginny, do you think this is easy for me?" Harry retorted hotly, feeling his frustrations bubbling to the surface. He knew she was the last person he should be yelling at right now, but he couldn't help it. He had absolutely no idea how to fix things, and she wasn't making it any easier. "Do you think I want to push away the one person I want to hold onto most?"

"I don't think you want that, no," Ginny reasoned, her voice becoming almost steely in the tense air surrounding them. "But that doesn't mean I have to roll over and accept it. I'm allowed to feel some type of way about it and not have to worry that I'm making things easier or harder for you."

"Where is this coming from?" he asked forcefully, not consciously noticing that they had begun to practically shout at one another from a distance of only a few inches. "A few days ago I thought we decided that we'd figure all of this out as we went along. I thought we'd agreed that we wouldn't lose sight of the fact that at the bottom of all of this, we care about each other."

"We did agree to figure it out as we went along," she said, her face growing a shade less red than her hair. "Maybe I'm over-emotional because Bill got married today. Maybe I'm irrational because Ron gets to be with Hermione and I don't get to be with you. Maybe I'm being a stupid, silly little girl who is letting her stupid, silly emotions run away with her. Or maybe I'm just realizing now that there might not be anything to figure out."

"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked, thoroughly confused and blinded by his own anger.

"It all seems pretty cut and dry to me," Ginny retorted, swatting her hair impatiently from her face as she spoke. "You don't want me to go with you for my own safety – yet you don't want to see me upset, either, so you let me in on the little stuff so I will feel like a part of things. But when the time comes for me to gracefully move to the side and let you go, I'm expected to do it without a second thought because it's what 'we' decided."

"This isn't fair!" he yelled, hearing his voice echo around the dark room. "Don't make me out to be the bad guy here, because if I could go back to school with you and finish out the year, walking by the lake and playing Quidditch, sitting with you by the fire in the common room, I would!"

"This isn't fair to either of us!" she shouted back. "Think about if the situation was reversed. Say it was me that was destined to take down Voldemort and you had to sit by and watch. Would you be content with letting me go, knowing you might not ever see me again?"

This gave Harry pause – more than anything else she could have said. What _if_ she was the one who needed to leave? Would he let her go? Would he stay behind and let her go on without him?

No, he wouldn't. He knew it as sure as he knew Voldemort needed to be destroyed.

Someone cleared their throat from the top of the stairs, and Harry turned to see Mr. Weasley standing there, surveying them with an unreadable look on his tired face.

"I think the two of you have had quite enough for one day," he said evenly, pinning Harry to his seat with his stare. "Ginny, why don't you go on up to bed now."

Ginny pushed off the sofa angrily, refusing to meet Harry's eyes. "My thoughts exactly," she said, hurrying up the stairs and past her father with a swish of her long robes.

Harry sat completely still, not knowing what to say, if indeed he was supposed to say anything at all. Mr. Weasley simply regarded him silently from the top of the stairs for a long moment, before he turned to follow his daughter.

"Mr. Weasley," Harry called out, stopping him. "I'm sorry we woke you."

"You didn't," he said, turning back to Harry. "I haven't been sleeping much lately."

"How much did you hear?" Harry asked, afraid of the answer, but needing to know.

"Enough," Mr. Weasley responded, folding his arms across his chest.

Harry felt horrible. The last thing he'd wanted to do today, of all days, was cause anyone in this family any trouble. Yet, here he was, having alienated the one person in the family he needed the most, and disappointing her father all in the same turn.

"I'm sorry for everything, if it's any consolation," he said dejectedly. "I didn't mean for any of this to happen, but I don't want her hurt."

Mr. Weasley nodded slightly, but his expression didn't change. "I know you don't. The only problem is, she's hurting anyway, isn't she?"

"I'd rather have her hate me than have something terrible happen to her," Harry said emphatically, with much more resolve than he felt.

"And I appreciate that," Mr. Weasley said. "More than you know. But it still doesn't change the fact that my little girl's heart is breaking in front of my eyes, and there's nothing I can do to fix it this time."

Harry felt all of the fight go out of him then, and his shoulders sagged in defeat. He couldn't say anything now even if he wanted to, and Mr. Weasley seemed to understand that.

He sighed audibly, uncrossing his arms. "You're a part of this family, Harry. That will never change, no matter what. You're just going to have to accept that there are going to be those who worry about you, and that their concern might be an 'inconvenience' from time to time. When people care about you, in many ways you're responsible to them for that."

"You can't possibly want her to come with us," Harry said, his voice shaking now. He was completely terrified to hear the answer.

"No, I don't want her to go with you," Mr. Weasley said wearily. "But I'm starting to realize that I have very little say in what my children can and cannot do any longer. The only thing I can do is pray that I've raised them well and be proud of them for doing what they know is right. Other than that…" His voice faded out to join the silence of the room.

They both remained quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. Then Mr. Weasley seemed to come to himself a bit, for he gave a small start and put his hand on the railing. "You should probably turn in, too," he said. "You're going to be pretty busy over the next few days. I put in for a favor with the Apparition Committee, by the way. They said you and Ron can go in for your test any time before Thursday."

"Thanks," Harry said quietly.

Mr. Weasley nodded imperceptibly, then gave him a very small smile. "Goodnight, Harry."

"Goodnight, Mr. Weasley."

Harry waited a minute until he knew he was alone in the room, then let his head drop wearily into his waiting hands.

* * *

Hermione entered the kitchen the next morning and was surprised to see Ron and Harry already there, eating breakfast. At least, Ron was eating. Harry was looking at his muffin as if he'd never properly seen one before, his hair a complete mess atop his head.

"Morning," she chirped, moving for the cupboard to procure a goblet for her juice. Harry grunted in recognition, but Ron grinned widely at her as he continued to chatter to Harry about some sort of new broom Charlie had been telling him about last night.

It was amazing. All he had to do was grin at her and her heart began pounding unmercifully. Is this what it was going to be like, being involved with Ronald Weasley? This constant ache in her chest, the continuous buzzing of every nerve in her body?

When Ron had finished regaling Harry with all of the broom's special features, he turned his full attention to her. "You think you can be ready to go in fifteen minutes?" he asked. "I already cleared it with my dad. As long as we floo straight there and back, no one needs to go with us."

"Sure," she said, grabbing a piece of toast and pouring herself some juice at the same time.

Harry looked up from his muffin and Hermione was surprised by the dark circles she saw under his eyes. It appeared as if he hadn't gotten a minute's rest all night.

"Was Ginny awake when you came down?" he asked.

"I don't think so," Hermione said. "She was asleep by the time I got to bed –" She cut off quickly, flushing as Ron's grin grew bigger. "And it sounded as if she was still asleep when I left the room. Why?"

Harry shrugged and returned to staring at his muffin. "No reason. I just wanted to talk to her, but I'll find her when we get back later."

Hermione decided it was best to leave things alone when she saw Harry pick up a spoon and try to slice his muffin in half.

When they stepped out of the grate at Grimmauld Place, the dark, desperate feeling Hermione always felt swept over her almost instantly. Then she realized that she'd be seeing her parents again and her mood lightened considerably.

She told the boys she'd catch them up and went off in search of her parents. She found them in the study, poring over books that appeared to be positively ancient.

"Hermione!" her mother exclaimed, jumping from her chair and enveloping her in a tight embrace. "Remus said you would be coming by today, but we didn't think it would be until later!"

"How are you, sweetheart?" her father asked, kissing her on the forehead. "Did you have a good time at the wedding?"

Hermione could feel herself beginning to blush again and willed it away. "I had a wonderful time," she said. "Why didn't you two come? There was plenty of food and everything."

"We would have, dear, but Remus let us go back to the house yesterday and pick up several things we needed. Some man named Moody took us…" she said, a reserved expression crossing her features. Hermione could understand that. To those who didn't know him, Mad Eye Moody was quite a bit to take in.

"So you're getting settled then?" Hermione asked, looking about the room to see if the books were indeed about dentistry and other various topics that interested her parents. The only thing she saw, however, were magical books, including the ones her parents had been reading when she came in.

"Adjusted is more like it," her father said, taking off his reading glasses and placing them on the desk in front of him. "At least we don't have that horrific portrait screaming at us anymore."

Hermione looked to her father in surprise. "You mean to say she hasn't started up again? That's unbelievable," she said, shaking her head. "The woman let loose a tirade of filth for almost a solid week the last time I stayed here."

Her mother shrugged. "Maybe Remus and Nymphadora were successful in their attempts to shut her up."

Hermione laughed; both at her mother's use of Tonks' first name, which Hermione was quite sure was never used except perhaps by Tonks' own mother, and the thought of Mrs. Black being silenced for good.

"Well, if that despicable woman has any deep, dark secrets, she's not telling them," her father added casually, flipping open the book in his hands. "I must say, sweetheart, I think I'm beginning to understand why you would pore over your books during holidays. These are positively fascinating - "

Hermione didn't hear her father. She was standing completely still, his first words reverberating in her head. Hiding secrets…

"Mum, dad, I'll be back later," she said, exiting the room swiftly. She ran into the main hall and stood in front of the portrait, staring at it as hard as she could. The face of Mrs. Black looked back at her blankly.

"Ron! Harry!" she called out loudly, watching the portrait closely to see if the screaming would begin again at the noise being produced from the 'mudblood' yelling in front of it.

Ron and Harry came rushing down the stairs from the second floor.

"What is it?" Ron asked, reaching her side quickly, searching her face. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she said, all of her attention still focused on the portrait. "I think I know what R.A.B. meant by the truth can be found behind family."

Ron and Harry followed her gaze to the portrait. "Do you mean to tell me…" Harry said, trailing off and not finishing his thought. Ron shook his head, but kept silent.

"Why not?" Hermione reasoned, going into explanation mode as she so often did with the two of them. "It would be the perfect place to keep something safe, isn't it? How many times did someone try to remove it two years ago? Besides, anyone who got close enough would have gone deaf long before they were able to figure out how to get behind it."

Lupin came into the room then, moving swiftly. "Did I hear someone shouting?" he asked. Hermione nodded and pointed at the portrait.

"When did you say that she stopped screaming at everyone who walked by?" she asked, impatiently hopping from foot to foot.

"The day your parents arrived," he answered, looking slightly confused. "Why?"

"Were you with them the whole time?" she prodded. "Was there anyone else in the house at the time?"

"Tonks and I took them upstairs to get them settled and away from her," he said, gesturing at the portrait. "When we were done up there, we took them into town to get them any supplies they would need. There wasn't an Order meeting, so there wasn't anyone else here," he said patiently. He gave Hermione a curious look. "What's going on? Why all the questions?"

Hermione's blood began to pound in her veins, as it always did when she was on the verge of figuring something out. "The letter we received from R.A.B. said that the truth was behind family, no matter how hard it was to see. Tonks said there are no documents or papers or any proof at all that Regulus even existed besides the crest."

Lupin looked at the portrait in much the same fashion as Ron and Harry just had. Then he swung his gaze back to Hermione and a slow grin spread across his face. "I always knew you were smarter than I ever was, but I didn't realize just how much smarter."

"Hold on," said Ron, waving his hands in front of him. "Indulge the common folk for a minute and explain one thing to me. Actually, two," he amended. "First, what could possibly be behind there that would prove R.A.B.'s trustworthiness to us; and second, just how in the bloody hell are we supposed to get to it?"

Hermione sighed in frustration. "I don't know," she said. "To both questions."

Lupin shook his head. "I'm afraid I can't help you there either, Ron."

Harry, who had been very quiet for quite some time, looked to Lupin with an incredulous expression on his face. "I think I might be able to answer the first question."

All eyes turned to him. "It might be possible that the proof is a…well, that it's a horcrux."

His words were met with contemplative silence. Finally, Lupin spoke up. "Why would you think that, Harry?"

"Because, R.A.B. was trying to collect them. I found a note inside the locket Dumbledore and I found, thinking it was the real one. If R.A.B. is Regulus, maybe he hid one in a place he knew that people who would help take Voldemort down would find it. Maybe he figured that somebody would find it one day and destroy it themselves," he said.

Lupin shook his head. "We couldn't remove the portrait, but Dumbledore performed several sweeping spells over the whole house when we first started using it as headquarters. If there was anything behind it, we would have found it."

Hermione stepped forward then. "That's why I asked all the questions before about where you were the day she stopped screaming," she explained. "I think Regulus came home to hide the information…or the horcrux, for us."

Ron looked completely overwhelmed. He ran a hand through his hair, causing it to stick up in all directions. "This is getting bloody complicated."

Lupin straightened his shoulders and suddenly became all business. "Right then. The question of importance now becomes how we get behind the portrait."

Harry glared at the picture of Mrs. Black. "I suppose saying please wouldn't work," he said wryly.

Ron sighed. "Why do I have a feeling that only one person will know how to get behind this?" he said, gesturing over Hermione's shoulder. "And if he is, you know what that means."

Hermione nodded, looking entirely put out. "It means we wait," she said sourly. "I hate waiting."

* * *

_**I hate waiting, too, but I'm so tired and I really wanted to post something before turning in. I've been working on this for two days, and just finished. I apologize for the gaps between chapters, but I really like to work methodically…editing and rewriting where needed, changing things that don't work or flow correctly. So, here it is. I'll have to continue the next phase in my head tomorrow or Thursday. Definitely by Friday!**_

_**I tried to include a small part about how alike I think Lupin and Hermione are. I think JKR made the two trios very similar and parallel to each other. James and Harry, Sirius and Ron, Lupin and Hermione…I think Lupin and Hermione can understand each other because they play the same role in their friends' lives, as do Sirius and Ron (the whole loyal, best friend, die for those he loves type way). Anyway, just a thought.**_

**_Regulus will be making an appearance next chapter, and I have a very defined vision of him in my head…I know people probably have thousands of different ways they see him, so I'll understand if mine doesn't wash with you. But, it's how I see him, so that's all I know how to write. _**

_**Hope this finds everyone happy, healthy and safe.**_


	9. A Collective Effort

**Invisible Scars**

**_Wow…I must say something here. You all have possibly the most articulate and helpful reviews I've seen. And I'll explain. I read some of the stories on this site, and I have for a while. Then I noticed a trend of silly stories, which are fine because who am I to judge. I believe you write what you feel like, and if it makes you happy, you do it. However, because I love these books so much, I personally can't write like that. So when I read stories, I look for the true ones, or miscellaneous ones worth reading. But before I choose, I read that person's reviews. I feel that you can tell what an author is like by the reviewers reading their story, and if the reviews are strong and actually make sense, explaining what they like and why they appreciate it, I will get behind the story 100 and this system has led me to many interesting and creative works…_**

_**So my point, after much rambling, is this. If I were me, checking out my story, and followed my aforementioned guidelines, I would definitely read my story because of all of you. There aren't any "U R sooooooooooooooo awesome! I luv R/Hr! They R 2 cute!" There are, however, detailed, coherent points of view being shared by a community of true fans…**_

_**I guess what I'm trying to say is this: U R soooooooooooo awesome!**_

_**I feel very honored that you have stopped by, and gladly welcome you along as I wrap this puppy up! Hope everyone is happy, healthy and safe…**_

**Chapter 9 – A Collective Effort**

Ron tried very hard not to think about Regulus and the portrait as he stood in the Apparition Centre. He couldn't afford to fail again. Firstly, because he would need to be able to apparate if he was to go along with Harry and Hermione, and secondly, because he didn't think he could suffer the humiliation of failing something twice. Especially now, since Hermione had sent him off with a kiss for good luck that still had his knees a bit wobbly.

When they called his name, he stepped forward and took a deep breath. He heard Hermione's voice repeating in his head, and it calmed him a bit. Destination, determination, deliberation…destination, determination, deliberation…

"Alright then, Mr. Weasley," Wilkie Twycross said, looking slightly put out that he had to administer tests to two individuals instead of to a group. "By your leave."

Ron nodded, swallowing down the lump of nerves that had settled somewhere in his throat and pushed all other thoughts from his mind. He concentrated on the adjoining room, right behind the large oak desk. He filled his mind with nothing but that thought as he imagined himself standing there, leaning up against it casually. Then, with one last deep breath, he turned on the spot and felt a vicious tug right above his navel and squeezed his eyes shut.

The next thing he knew, he heard Harry yelling his name, and he pried his eyes open to find himself half-sitting on the desk he'd seen in his mind. He looked over to Harry, who was pumping one fist in the air, grinning across the distance. Ron grinned back and took a moment to collect himself.

He had done it. Now he wouldn't have to go home and tell Hermione that he was rubbish at everything he did. He could instead sweep into the room – no, maybe he'd apparate – lift her off her feet and kiss her until he felt like stopping.

"Mr. Weasley, you need to move so Mr. Potter may have his turn," Twycross said in a bored voice, obviously not impressed by Ron's accomplishment.

Ron reentered the room with Harry and Twycross, and gave Harry a thumbs-up. "Good luck, mate," he said. Harry tried to smile back, but the smile faltered when Twycross called him forward.

A moment later and it was Ron's turn to whoop and holler for Harry. Harry had chosen to apparate to the side of a water cooler, and although the cooler was on the ground in pieces in front of him, Harry himself was intact and on his feet.

"Very well, very well," Twycross said, signing a few forms and shoving them into Ron and Harry's hands. "Here are your certificates. Take them to the front office for registration."

Ron and Harry finished their business and made their way to Level 8. When the doors opened onto the Atrium fountain, Ron saw Harry tense up at his side.

"I hate this place," he said, his voice sounding very far away.

Ron nodded in agreement. "Me too. I guess we won't be queuing up for jobs here after we…"

His voice trailed off into nothingness as they stepped out of the elevator. He knew they were both thinking the same thing. Was there even going to be an 'after' for them?

Just then, they saw Ginny appear from one of the grates to the right of the fountain. "Ginny?" Ron called out, surprised to see his sister. She didn't look pleased to see either of them, but she crossed to join them all the same.

"Hi," she said, avoiding Harry's inquisitive gaze altogether. "How'd it go?"

"We passed," said Ron, dismissing it with a wave of his hand. "What are you doing here? Did mum let you come by yourself?"

Ginny looked highly offended for a moment, but kept control of her temper. "Yes, she did," she replied tightly. "I have an appointment and she didn't have time to take me. Dad told her I'd be fine."

"Where is your appointment?" Harry asked, and although Ginny looked like answering him was the last thing she wanted to do, she finally met his eyes.

"Level 3."

"That's the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes," Ron said, recalling the placards on the inside of the elevator. "What business do you have there?"

"My business," Ginny said, moving past them quickly. "I'll see you at home," she called over her shoulder, successfully dismissing them both. They watched her disappear behind the closing doors, both surprised by her abrupt behavior.

"What do you think that was all about?" Ron asked Harry, who was still staring at the glassy doors of the elevator shaft.

"I don't know," he replied, sounding defeated and wary. Ron grabbed the arm of his robes and tugged him toward the grate leading home.

"Come on. We can ask my mum when we get back. Or maybe Hermione knows what's going on. She always does," he said, matter-of-factly. "Besides, we need to get back in case Lupin heard anything."

Harry nodded and turned away from the elevators to follow him. Ron really wished they could have apparated home, but the ministry had the same protections on it as Hogwarts did. Silently hoping this was his last time using the floo network, he tossed the remains of his bag into the fireplace and shouted, "The Burrow!"

* * *

"I knew you'd do it!" Hermione exclaimed, throwing her arms around him exuberantly. He laughed into her hair, which was now covering his face. "I'm so proud of you," she said more quietly, directly into his ear. It felt so intimate that his palms immediately began to sweat. It had been like this since the night of the wedding. Every time she got anywhere close to him now, his entire body went into overdrive.

At first, his feelings for her had been so deep and muddled that he was happy to simply be around her. His thoughts were not entirely platonic, but they weren't like they were now, either. He assumed that he needed time to adjust to simply being able to be with her, and now that they were…adjusted to each other…the other feelings were sneaking in. He couldn't look at her any longer and see a girl he'd once completed homework with. Now, when he looked at her, he saw the woman he'd let ensnare him body, mind and soul.

"Hermione, you're choking me," he teased, but when she began to pull back, he held her tightly against him. "I didn't say I minded."

She laughed and kissed his neck, then detangled herself from his arms. "I'm assuming Harry passed as well?"

"Yeah, but he had a letter to write so he went straight to my room," he said, taking her hand. "Want to go for a walk?"

She laughed again, allowing him to tug her along to the back door. "We never seem to do much walking when we go for a walk," she said, raising an eyebrow at him.

"It's your fault," he said, waiting until they were in the shade of the trees in the garden before he turned to face her with intent clear in his eyes.

Her own eyes sparkled up into his as he backed her up against the nearest tree. "How's that?"

"You're simply too fetching to resist, my lady," he said, trapping her between his arms and lowering his mouth to the spot on her neck he'd recently discovered drove her to utter distraction.

He felt her relax against him as his lips found their target, and he moved his arms around her to support her. She made soft little sounds in his ear that drove him wild, so much so that he had to get her to stop. His lips trailed across her jawline to her mouth, and within moments they were clinging to each other as if they would be torn apart any second.

Ron's mind began to get hazy, and he felt his control quickly spinning out of his reach. He eased his lips off of hers, and when she moaned in protest and began to kiss him again, he had to physically step away from her. His breathing was coming strong and irregular as he positioned her at arms length from him.

"We have to stop," he rasped, shaking his head as she began to remove his hands from her shoulders and tried to step back into his embrace. "No, I mean it, Hermione. We have to stop. Now."

She gave him an irritated look, but it quickly changed to one of understanding. "Oh," she said, her face getting flushed. She gave him a small smile as she sank onto the cool grass. "Sorry."

"Hey, don't apologize to me," Ron said, joining her on the lawn, but careful to keep a slight distance between them. "You can't help it that you knock me completely off my rocker."

"Who would have thought Ron Weasley would turn out to be such a flatterer?" she said, pushing a piece of hair out of his eyes. He captured her hand and kissed her palm lightly.

"We can just talk, then," she said, her eyes soft as they watched his action. "Did you see your father at the ministry?"

"No, but we did see Ginny," he replied, remembering that he had wanted to bring it up with her anyway. "She wouldn't say why she was there, though. Any idea?"

Hermione's brow furrowed. "No. She didn't say anything to me about going there today. She just said she had some things to take care of and that she'd be back soon."

Ron couldn't figure it out. He knew that Ginny confided in Hermione the most, and if she hadn't said anything to her, then she was definitely hiding something big. His mind began to race with all of the possibilities, and came up frustratingly empty.

"She's still got a year of school," he said aloud, trying to work it out. "She couldn't be applying for a job, could she?"

Hermione shrugged. "School might not open, so it's a possibility she may be planning for," she said rationally. Ron sighed, wondering how Ginny could even think of getting a position at the ministry. He knew how much she distrusted the entire system ever since their treatment of Harry. She had also seen what the ministry had done to Percy, and indirectly, their family. Their father was still there only because he felt an obligation that went deeper than any of them could understand. Why would she be interested in working for a government she didn't trust?

Hermione sat up straighter and nodded her head toward the house. "Maybe we can ask her now," she said, and he turned to see Ginny heading into the house.

Their attempts to discuss anything with her were thwarted momentarily, however, by the arrival of four large, distinguished tawny owls. Hermione's eyes grew wide as one deposited a letter in her slightly shaking hands. Ron's own hands weren't as steady as they should have been as it registered in his brain that these were Hogwarts owls and the letters most likely contained news of the school's fate.

Hermione gave Ginny's letter to her as Ron called up the winding staircase for Harry. By the time Harry had joined them, Ginny and Hermione had opened their letters and were scanning the contents. Hermione looked shocked and surprised, but Ginny simply read the letter, then placed it on the table next to the sandwich she had made for herself.

"Well?" Ron asked, ignoring his own letter for the time being. He assumed they all said the same things anyway. Hermione looked up at him and her face was still frozen in shock.

"They're closing Hogwarts," she said, shaking her head from side to side. "I can't believe it."

"They're not actually closing the school," Ginny corrected, appearing much more calm than Hermione. "It will just be serving a different purpose this year."

"But there won't be any classes," Hermione put in, still looking flustered.

Ron tore open his letter to read the news for himself, and saw Harry do the same.

_Mr. Weasley,_

_We regret to inform you that Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will not be accepting students for enrollment in classes this school term. The school will remain open to families who wish to utilize the resources available to prepare for any future possibilities or who simply need a safe place to reside. _

_Teachers will report to the school beginning the first week of September. Please send word if you are interested in returning to the school, along with a list of family members who will be arriving with you. _

_As you were preparing to complete your seventh and last year, please be advised that all previous academic standings will be taken into consideration and N.E.W.T.S. will be waived if your standing is deemed credible by the Wizarding Examinations Authority. You will be notified of your standings after the winter holiday._

_We are sorry for the inconveniences to you and your family, and appreciate your cooperation and understanding in these matters. _

_Sincerely,_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Acting Deputy Headmistress_

The room was oddly silent as Ron finished reading his letter, and when he looked up he realized why. Harry was staring at the letter in his hand as if it was going to turn into dust right before his eyes, and Hermione and Ginny were staring at the pair of them, waiting for a reaction.

Unfortunately, Ron didn't have one available. He knew that they weren't planning on going back to school as it was, but there was something incredibly strange about knowing that the school wouldn't be open and carrying on with business as usual while they were off in the world. It was almost as if the last remaining shred of normalcy in their lives was being yanked from underneath them, giving them no solid ground to stand upon.

"What are you going to do, Ginny?" Hermione asked suddenly, breaking the long silence that had fallen among them. Ron looked to his sister, and saw Harry do the same. Ginny was now fiddling with the crust of her bread, pulling it apart in little pieces and looking thoroughly enthralled with the action.

"Ginny?" Hermione asked again. Ginny's head came up then, and she met Hermione's eyes squarely.

"I kind of assumed the school wasn't going to open this year," she said. "Which is why I made plans to intern at the ministry."

"Why?"

The question was asked by Harry, who was staring hard at Ginny. She turned to face him, her expression not changing in the slightest.

"Because I don't have any other options. Actually, I wasn't given any other options," she said.

They stared at each other for a long moment, in which Ron could feel the tension mounting to an almost unbearable level. He looked back and forth between them, and finally couldn't take it any longer.

"What is it that you'll be doing, then?" he asked his sister, who was still trying to stare Harry down from where she stood. "Working with dad?"

"I'm going to be assisting the junior head of the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes," she explained, finally turning her attention to Ron.

Ron looked back at her with a blank expression. He still couldn't figure out when she'd become such a fan of the ministry. Harry was apparently having the same problem, because he was looking at her with the same expression on his own face.

Only Hermione seemed to understand Ginny's motivation. She spent a moment working it out in her head, then she sat next to her at the table. "Are you sure you'll be able to get away with it?"

"Get away with what?" Harry asked, suddenly looking nervous. "You're not going to do something that's going to get you into trouble, are you?"

Ginny gave him a long-suffering look. "As opposed to what? Going off in search of the means to take down the most dangerous wizard that ever lived?"

Harry's face fell momentarily, but he regrouped quickly. "What is it exactly that you're going to be doing at the ministry?"

"I don't recall having to report to you," Ginny retorted hotly. She got up out of her seat, but Hermione put a hand on her arm.

"Ginny, if you're doing what I think you're doing, then we have a right to know," she said calmly. "We'll find out soon enough, won't we?"

All the fight left Ginny as her shoulders sagged before their eyes. "Look, it's nothing. I've just been trying to figure out a way to help out without going along with you guys," she said, sparing a glance at Harry before continuing. "The best I could come up with was working at the ministry and keeping my ears open for any information I think you will need."

Her confession was met with complete silence. Ron thought about it for a moment, and realized, to his complete horror, that it was a smart move. If Ginny worked with the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes she would have inside information on anything that happened within the wizarding community. Any time Voldemort attacked a town, or was spotted somewhere, she would know about it. If they knew where Voldemort was, they could stay one step ahead of him.

"I get it," he said aloud, earning a severe look from Harry and an approving one from Hermione. "Our own little spy," he said, offering his sister a small smile.

She returned it gladly, thanking him with her eyes. Then she swung her gaze to Harry, who was still glaring at Ron.

"Well, go ahead," she said, her shoulders straightening as if facing an inquisitioner's squad. "Start talking me out of it."

Harry remained silent for so long that Ron assumed he wasn't going to say anything at all. Then he walked over to Ginny and stood right in front of her, so she couldn't look anywhere but at him. Their eyes held each other's, and Ron felt like he was witnessing something very personal. He shifted uncomfortably and caught Hermione's eye. She nodded her head towards the living room and he nodded in return. They left the room just as Harry's arms wound around Ginny's waist, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

* * *

Although they had no news from either Lupin or Tonks for the rest of the day, they did receive a surprise visit from the twins after dinner.

"Had to check up on our two favorite couples," George explained, waggling his eyebrows at Hermione suggestively as he seated himself between Harry and Ginny on the sofa.

Fred took the seat behind Ron who was sitting on the floor next to Hermione, a chessboard in between them. "So, what's new?" he asked, looking them all over. "What's this we hear about our baby sister becoming a ministry drone?"

Ginny, who was trying to shove George off the sofa, paused when she heard this. "Who told you that?" she exclaimed in surprise, her gaze swinging back and forth between the two of them.

"We have our ways, Gin," George said sagely, patting her on the head. "So, spill already. What's the story?"

Ginny sighed in resignation and began explaining why she'd chosen to intern at the ministry. Fred nodded as she spoke, and shot George a conspiratorial look when she'd finished.

"I told you we were all thinking along the same lines," he said, in that strange code of theirs that Ron had always envied.

"So you're not going to try and stop me either?" Ginny asked, looking incredulous.

"Why would we try and stop you?" George asked. "Sounds like a right smart move, doesn't it, Fred?"

When Fred didn't answer right away, Ron twisted to see what his brother was up to. The only thing he saw was a glint of metal as Fred grabbed a patch of Ron's hair.

"Argh! Geroff, Fred!" Ron shouted, as Fred sliced through a piece of his hair with what Ron now knew were scissors. "What the hell are you doing!"

Fred held up the thick lock of hair he'd just shorn off Ron's head and admired it before tucking it into a small pouch he'd procured.

"Just another part of the plan to keep the lot of you alive," Fred said, patting the pouch as he returned it to his pocket. "You see, my dear brother, we came up with a most ingenious plan of our own…"

"One that will allow you to move about with a bit more freedom than you'd be able to normally," George finished, bringing out his own pair of scissors and turning to Harry.

Harry backed away from George until he was almost over the armrest of the sofa, but George simply laughed and beckoned him closer. "Come on now, Harry," he coaxed. "It'll only hurt for a minute."

"What are the two of you on about?" Ron bellowed, rubbing at the spot on his head where Fred had relieved him of at least an inch of hair.

"The answer is simple, my dear brother," Fred explained as he watched George zero in on Harry again. "Polyjuice Potion. Lots and lots of it."

"We're going to brew up a huge batch and keep it in the storeroom at the shop," George said, pausing in his efforts long enough to explain. "We figure if we turn into the two of you and pop off to be seen in various places around the world, word will get back to Voldemort and keep him well off your track for a good, long while."

"You can't do that," Harry said, now standing as far away from George as he could get while still remaining in the room. "You can't put yourselves in danger like that."

"Nonsense, Harry," Fred said, waving him off. "First of all, you don't get to make that decision for us, and second, we won't stay the two of you long enough to be mistaken. We'll simply make an appearance somewhere public where people will definitely be talking about who they've seen, and poof, we're our own handsome selves again."

Hermione, who had been watching the entire scene with a mixture of amusement and wariness, looked at them in awe. "That's actually a brilliant idea," she said. Ron gave her a look, which she shrugged off. "What? It is."

Fred grinned at her. "I'm glad you think so, Hermione, because we'll be needing some of that gorgeous hair of yours, as well."

"Why?" she asked, now sliding away from where Fred was sitting. "Cross gender transformation is almost impossible to accomplish, and not very pleasant, I've read."

"That doesn't mean we can't recruit a willing female to help with the cause," George explained. "Now come on, you two. We can take it from Ron by force because he's ours to mess with as we please, but we decided that with you we would ask nicely."

Ron saw Harry and Hermione exchange a look, then give over to the twins in reluctant defeat.

"Good!" George said, snipping Harry's unruly hair and tucking it into a small pouch of his own. "It's always easier when your subjects comply, isn't it Fred?"

"Yes, it is," Fred agreed, cutting at Hermione's hair as she closed her eyes tightly. "But not nearly as fun."

After the twins had left, the four of them remained in the living room until well into the night. Ron realized his mother and father had made themselves scarce all night, almost seeming to understand their need for privacy, and each other. Hermione was curled up against him on the sofa now, and Harry was sitting on the floor in front of Ginny, who was idly playing with the patch of hair where George had cut from earlier.

Ron could see the wheels turning in Hermione's head, and wondered just what she was thinking now. It seemed as if Hermione never stopped thinking…almost as if it was a continuous process that was necessary for her survival. It was just one of the many things that made her unbelievably irresistible.

"What?" he asked, when she turned to say something, then turned away again – then turned back.

"Nothing," Hermione said, snuggling deeper into the crook of his arm.

"It's not nothing, Hermione," Ginny said with a smile on her face. "You have that 'I've got a brilliant idea' look on your face."

"Well, it's just that…" she started, obviously dying to share her thoughts with them. She pushed herself into a sitting position and leaned forward with a serious look on her face. "I just think that with the twins putting their plan into effect, and Ginny having a plan of her own, maybe it's time that we start figuring out what it is we need to do, and where we're going to start," she said hurriedly, giving Ginny an apologetic look before pinning Harry with her gaze.

"Exactly what do you mean by that?" Harry asked. "Are you looking for some kind of itinerary or schedule? Because I don't think we can really decide any of that until we hear back from Regulus, and run things by Lupin."

"No, that's not what I meant," she explained. "I just think we need to start – I don't know – training…for lack of a better word."

Her suggestion was met by another round of silence, in which she shifted uncomfortably. "Look, this is going to be a lot harder than anything we've faced yet, and in the past we've always seemed to get by on dumb luck. I think if we're really going to do this, we need to be prepared."

Ron reached out and took her hand in his. "I agree," he said, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. "It's time to stop playing around."

"Sort of like resurrecting a smaller version of the DA?" Ginny suggested, considering carefully. They all grew quiet momentarily as they remembered what exactly the DA stood for, and Harry seemed to come to himself at the realization.

"So, when should we start?"

* * *

The next day, shortly after breakfast, Hermione found herself once again at Grimmauld Place. After spending a while in the kitchen with her parents, she joined Harry, Ron and Ginny in the drawing room with Lupin and Tonks. Apparently, Harry had already briefed them on their plans to begin training right away, for the entire group of them already had their wands out and were moving furniture out of the way.

"Hermione, Lupin thinks we should start with Patronuses," Ron said, meeting her at the door. "He said you and Harry have already produced them, but it couldn't hurt to keep at it and see if you can make them stronger."

"Alright," she agreed, curious about what Ron and Ginny would produce as their protective animal. She cast a look at Ginny, who looked markedly happier now that she was being included. Hermione took a spot next to her and awaited Lupin's instructions.

"Now, it's much easier to produce a strong Patronus when you are actually being faced with a dementor, but seeing as how we do not have any boggarts left in the house, we'll have to make do as best we can," he said, moving to the front of the room with Tonks. "Harry, why don't you go first?"

Harry nodded and stepped forward, a look of deep concentration coming over his face. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!" he yelled, pointing his wand straight out in front of him. Immediately, a large, celestial stag bounded out from the tip, galloped a few paces, and then stopped directly in front of Lupin.

"Well done, Harry!" Lupin said, grinning his approval. "Hermione, you next."

Hermione took Harry's place in the center of the room and closed her eyes. She always found it a bit easier to concentrate when she didn't have distractions in front of her. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A small, silvery otter crept out from the tip of her wand and began wobbling around on all fours in front of them. Hermione's eyes opened and her Patronus began evaporating slowly. She turned to look at Lupin, who was still smiling.

"Excellent, Hermione, but next time, I want you to keep your eyes open. You won't have the luxury of closing your eyes if you are faced with a real dementor."

She nodded, a bit disappointed that her Patronus wasn't as strong as Harry's. She vowed that next time she would do better, as Lupin called Ron forward.

"Ron, have you ever seen what your Patronus looked like?" he asked. Ron's ears began to turn red as he shook his head.

"Not really. I mean, when we were in the DA, I thought I saw a bit of a…well, an outline of a fox, maybe?" Ron replied, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.

Lupin waved him off. "No matter, Ron. The important thing is that you concentrate on a purely happy thought. The happier the thought, the more pronounced your Patronus will appear."

Ron nodded and his face screwed up in intense concentration. His ears were now positively glowing as a small smile tugged at his lips. He shoved his wand out in front of him and bellowed, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

A long whisp of silver sprang from his wand, hovered in the air for a second before taking form. Hermione could see why he had thought it was a fox; the animal was definitely four legged and furry. The longer Ron concentrated, however, the less it looked like a fox. The body began to take form, and before she knew it, she was staring at a large, protective looking dog.

"Sirius," she heard Harry and Lupin say quietly, at exactly the same time. Ron's eyes went wide for a moment, breaking his concentration, and the dog disappeared. He stood uncertainly in the middle of the room, looking apologetically at Harry first, then Lupin.

"Sorry," he said, dropping his wand to his side. "I didn't mean for it to…" He trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

Lupin shook his head. "No, Ron, there's nothing to be sorry about. The wizard doesn't choose the Patronus. It's the other way around. In many ways, the Patronus is an extention of ourselves. A dog is extremely loyal and protective, and is usually willing to sacrifice itself for those he loves. I think it's quite fitting, actually."

Ginny stepped forward then, touching Harry's arm to snap him out of his thoughts. "I'd like to have my go now," she said, and Harry nodded as he moved out of the way.

"Ginny, have you ever seen your Patronus?" Lupin asked her, to which she shook her head. "Alright then. Same as your brother. Concentrate very hard on a happy memory."

Ginny shared a look with Harry before turning to face the center of the room. She took a deep breath and thrust her wand in front of her. "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

Ginny's Patronus was extremely quick in coming, considering she had never produced one before. A shape began to take form in mid-air, and remained there even when it was solid. Hermione watched on, fascinated. All of their Patronuses had floated down to the ground to stand on their feet eventually, but Ginny's hovered directly in front of her as wings began to unfold through the silvery haze. A long tail followed quickly, and once the beak had taken form, it was quite apparent that Ginny had produced a small, yet incredibly distinct phoenix.

"Wow," Ron said, turning his head to the side to check out the diminutive bird. "Looks a bit like Fawkes, doesn't it?"

Hermione felt a prickly sensation behind her eyes as she watched Harry's face as he took in Ginny's Patronus. She knew what he was thinking, too. Phoenixes always protected their masters to the death, and it seemed oddly fitting that Ginny would be protected by the greatest protector of them all. Harry's whole body seemed to relax as he watched the phoenix disappear slowly as Ginny lowered her wand.

Lupin was grinning broadly by now, as was Tonks. "Exceptional, all of you. I don't see the need to stay on this much longer. I must say, I am quite surprised that all of you can produce such strong Patronuses."

Tonks smiled at the lot of them, a secretive glint in her eye. "The stronger the happy emotion, the stronger the Patronus, right, Remus?"

Hermione looked over to Ron, who was staring at her with a lopsided grin on his face. She blushed immediately, knowing exactly what he was thinking. If his happy memory was anything like hers, she wouldn't be surprised if he could produce a solid Patronus one hundred times in a row.

"So," said Ginny, who was now standing extremely close to Harry. "What's next?"

They trained in the small room for over an hour, working their way through the basic curses and ending with a few that Lupin thought might come in handy on the road. They were just about to move onto a few simple counter-curses, when they heard a loud commotion coming from the front hall.

They went to the doorway and looked out onto the foyer. Mad Eye Moody, and two Aurors they all only knew as Dawlish and Williamson were dragging a slight, shabbily dressed man bound by brilliant green ropes into the room with them. The man's face was hidden under a sack which Moody was reaching to remove when the man cried out.

"I told you, she can't see me with you, or she'll never give it back!" he hissed, struggling against them so Moody couldn't get a firm hold on the sack. "Take me into another room before you remove it!"

"You are in no position to be giving orders," Moody growled, his glass eye rolling around crazily in his head. "You're lucky we brought you here at all, you worthless piece of…"

"Alastor, that's quite enough," Dawlish snapped, looking thoroughly put out. "We told Remus we'd find him, and we have. It's his call what we do with him now."

"Then perhaps I can relieve you gentlemen of your burden," Lupin called out, going quickly to the group of men. Hermione watched with the rest of them from the doorway as Lupin pointed to the drawing room over their shoulders. "In there, if you will."

Ron pulled Hermione out of the way as the men marched the stranger into the drawing room. With the addition of the four other men, the room seemed to shrink to half its original size. The room got smaller still as everyone waited with bated breath as Lupin circled the bound man, apparently checking for something only he could possibly see.

"He's clean, Lupin," Moody grumbled, keeping his magical eye trained on the man as his real one connected with Lupin. Tonks, who had watched the whole scene in complete silence, now stepped up to stand beside Lupin as he himself approached the man.

"Do you think they should be here, Remus?" Williamson asked, inclining his head toward Hermione, Ron, Harry and Ginny.

"I don't see why not," Lupin answered, reaching up and removing the sack. "After all, he was the one who contacted them, remember?"

For the life of her, Hermione couldn't move. She found herself staring, almost uncontrollably, at the man who was now free to stare back. She couldn't help it. Sure, the hair was a lighter brown, and much less wild, but the eyes were of the same dark intensity. The build was much slighter, and the face more boyish, but there was absolutely no mistaking it. If she hadn't known any better, she would have sworn that Sirius himself had found a way to come back to them.

Regulus Black stood in the middle of the room, his dark eyes scanning over their faces carefully. When his eyes fell on Harry, he flinched almost imperceptibly. Hermione caught it, however, and looked over to Harry.

Harry's face was as white as a sheet, his hands curled into tight fists at his sides. She knew that all he could see was Sirius. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it immediately. Ginny's hand found her way into his as she stared in amazement at the man who stood before them.

"You didn't need to send for me," Regulus said finally, breaking the unbearable tension in the room. "I was going to come to you of my own free will within the week."

"You should feel lucky we did come and get you," spat Moody, glaring at him. "If we could find you, then You Know Who would have been able to as well, and he might have gotten to you before you could get to us."

"I have told you before, and I will tell you as many times as you need to hear it," Regulus said calmly, shaking the hair out of his eyes almost defiantly. "I am here to help you."

Moody huffed angrily, but Lupin put a restraining hand on his arm. "Moody, I wanted him here for a reason. We have a lot of questions we need answered, and we're not leaving from this room until every last one of us is satisfied by the answers."

Moody considered Lupin for a moment, before nodding in ascension.

"Very well then," Lupin said, turning his attention back to Regulus. "I believe the first question I have is what is behind the portrait of your mother?"

Regulus met Lupin's gaze evenly. "A horcrux. One of many, as I've come to understand it." His eyes found Harry's. "Without which, the destruction of Voldemort is a silly, foolish fancy with no beginning or end."

"How did it get there?" Lupin continued, ignoring the look of hatred Moody was shooting at Regulus. "We checked the house thoroughly when we set up here two years ago."

Regulus almost smiled then, but it appeared to Hermione that he had forgotten how. "You seem to forget that I grew up in this house." His eyes traveled over the room, the familiar furniture, and finally landed on Tonks. "Isn't that right, cousin?"

"Don't call me that!" Tonks bellowed out suddenly, the only noise she had made since Regulus had been brought into the house. "I'm no relation of yours, and I never will be!" With that, she practically sprinted out of the room, her hair going from a shocking pink to a jet black as she disappeared around the corner.

Lupin looked for a moment as if he would go after her, but a determined look came across his face as he stared down Regulus once more.

"How do we know you're telling the truth? How do we get at what is behind the portrait?" he asked calmly, although Hermione could tell that he was wrestling heavily with his emotions by this point.

His calmness paid off, however, when Regulus looked out the door into the foyer. "It's quite simple, actually. All I have to do is ask her for it."

* * *

_**I am so sorry to leave it here, but I am exhausted. It's two in the morning and I have to work at 7…I'm in so much trouble tomorrow! But I don't care, because I actually like how this turned out. I know I said this will be 10 chapters only, but I may have to extend that by one. Don't know yet. Depends on if I feel like writing a long chapter or splitting it up. **_

_**I am not, however, going to go any further than them formulating a plan. I don't want the fic to follow the trio as they go in search of the horcruxes. I'm just not up for that right now. Also, I don't have the foggiest idea how JKR is going to go about it!**_

_**12 days until Goblet! I can't wait! I just wish they would stop showing clips that make it look like Hermione and Harry are being put in romantic circumstances…any true fan knows that simply is not the case!**_


	10. A Hero's Worth

**Invisible Scars**

_**Thank you, my faithful and loyal reviewers. I am so honored that you want this to continue, but I really do feel that I have to wrap things up. Maybe, somewhere along the line I will write a continuation to this, but for now, I feel the story has come to its logical (and planned out) conclusion. If I continued it now, I would be freewheeling with it, and I don't usually like to write that way. Anyway, please keep an eye out for me. I would love to carry all of you over to another story that I already have running about in my head…and in the meantime, feel free to check out my other listed story, Anywhere but in Between. Warning, it's long. 24 chapters to be exact, but at least you won't be mad at me for not continuing this! It'll keep you busy until I can get my other story down!**_

_**Alie: I like reviews period. I don't mind if they are short or long, as long as they are honest and sincere. So don't fret, my friend. I cherish every word.**_

_**Mist: Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. I immediately went to my book and checked things out. It actually gave me an idea for another story (the one I mentioned above). I figure all of the things they cleaned out had to go somewhere, and a cute, very short ficcie started dancing around in the noggin. I appreciate the heads up and thank you for your attention to details on my behalf.**_

_**As for everyone else…I really wish I could respond to each of you in turn, but that would take about 100 pages on its own. What I want each of you to know is this. I read every word you have to say and take it to heart. If I could reach through my computer and hug you all, I would in a second. That's how important you have all become to this whole process. Thank you for making my days that much brighter.**_

_**By the way, it came to my attention that I have not once included a disclaimer for this so here it goes: I do not own anything. If I did, I wouldn't be charging shampoo at Target.**_

_**On with the show…**_

**Chapter 10 – A Hero's Worth**

"It's that simple, is it?" growled Moody, glaring pointedly at Regulus. "All we've had to do is ask all this time?"

"No, that wouldn't have worked," Regulus replied evenly. "I have to be the one to ask for it because I'm the one who asked her to keep it hidden."

Hermione was watching Regulus closely, desperately searching his face for any clues as to his true allegiance. Trusting a former Death Eater had gotten the one person she'd thought was untouchable killed. They couldn't afford to be wrong about Regulus. Not now, when so much was at stake.

"Well then," she said into the silence of the room. "What do you say we go out there and begin clearing things up?" Regulus turned his dark gaze onto her, and she was taken aback again by the boyish appearance of his face. He certainly reminded her of Sirius, but he'd been aptly named. She had never been able to see Sirius as a young boy. Regulus, on the other hand, emitted youth from every pore, despite his currently haggard state.

"If my mother sees me with any of you, she will consider me a blood traitor as well, and will never reveal what she is hiding," he explained in a calm voice. "For I asked her to keep the horcrux safe as a favor to the Dark Lord."

"I just bet you did," barked Moody, taking a threatening step toward Regulus. Lupin stepped in between them, holding his hand up to Moody to ward him off.

"Alastor, we must keep our wits about us now, more than ever," he said in a level voice, although his eyes were flashing dangerously. "I want to get to the bottom of this, and we can't do that without him, no matter how much we might not like it."

"Then what do you suggest?" Harry piped up, speaking for the first time in long minutes. "How do we let him go out there alone?"

"We don't," Lupin said, rubbing his jawbone. "He will not leave our sight the entire time we have him here."

Ron, who had been leaning up against the desk with his arms folded across his chest, looked up suddenly at Harry. "Where's your invisibility cloak at, Harry?" he asked.

Comprehension flooded into Harry's eyes and he turned to Lupin. "If I can go back to Privet Drive and get my stuff, one of you can be under the cloak when Regulus gets the horcrux."

"Leave it to us, Harry," Moody said, nodding toward Dawlish and Williamson. "I can't stay here with this…with him any longer anyway." He nodded his head toward Regulus, who simply stood there with the same blank expression on his tired face.

"It's with my other things, in my old room," Harry said. "If you wouldn't mind, could you bring my trunks along as well? That way, I won't have to go back at all." He looked decidedly happy at the thought of not having to see the Dursleys again, even if it was just to gather his belongings and leave.

Moody nodded, and the three men left quickly. As soon as they were out of the room, Regulus seemed to visibly relax. His shoulders fell and his entire body appeared as if it would give out at any moment. Lupin immediately reached for his wand, pointing it directly at Regulus' heart.

"Don't think that you're safe here with just me," Lupin said, his voice sounding more dangerous and steely than Hermione had ever heard it. "And if you do somehow manage to drop me, they are more than adept at disposing of you quite quickly."

Regulus' face never wavered. He looked neither scared nor calculating. In Hermione's opinion, he simply looked tired. "I have no intention of 'dropping' any of you," he said quietly. "As I've told you before, and I'm sure I will have to tell you many times to come, I am no friend of Voldemort's."

Ginny, who had been unflinchingly silent the entire time, pushed away from the wall and came to stand directly in front of him. Harry put a hand out to stop her, but she walked past it. "You seem like a very smart man, so I don't think it is coming as much of a shock that we don't trust you."

Regulus considered her carefully for a long moment, his dark eyes not wavering from hers. "It is not."

"Then I would suggest you convince us, as best you can, why we should believe you," she said, her posture indicating that she was not in the least afraid of him.

"Once I show you the horcrux and we destroy it, there will be no more doubt in any of your minds," Regulus said. Hermione saw his knees give out a bit, and despite the imminent threat he posed, she couldn't help herself. She retrieved a chair from behind the large desk and moved it so he could sit.

His eyes flashed to hers briefly, and she caught the look of gratitude mixed with utter shock in their dark depths. It was almost as if he had never had someone extend an act of kindness to him before.

As he sank into the chair, Lupin said, "I wouldn't attach your innocence to an object, Regulus. You could destroy it simply to gain our trust."

"No, he couldn't," said Harry, stepping forward to stand beside Ginny. "Dumbledore explained the importance of the horcruxes to me last year. They serve as protective hosts to Voldemort's soul. If Regulus was still working for Voldemort, he would never be able to destroy a piece of his master's soul. Without all of the horcruxes, Voldemort is incomplete, and will never regain his full strength."

"But Harry, didn't you say that the diary and the ring were already destroyed?" Hermione questioned. It was one thing to be kind, but another to go into anything blind. "If they're already destroyed, what is one more? Wouldn't it be the best thing to do to prove himself to us?"

Harry considered her question. His face was drawn and pale, and she could tell that this was already having an overwhelming effect on him. It was as if the entire weight of their task was now being fully disclosed to him, and Hermione thought briefly that she should procure a chair for him as well.

"There is one other that is destroyed," Regulus said, cutting off whatever response Harry was struggling to come up with. "Slytherin's locket. I destroyed it a year ago."

"Oh, right," Ron said sarcastically. "Of course you did."

"I found your note," Harry said, seeming to come to himself. "At the bottom of the goblet Dumbledore and I found in the caves." Suddenly, an impassioned look blazed across Harry's features, and he charged forward, grabbing the front of Regulus' robes. "Dumbledore was weakened for nothing!" he yelled. "He had to drink out of the goblet, and it was all for nothing! That's the reason he didn't have the strength to fight off your buddies when they cornered him. That's the reason he died!"

The room drained of all air and energy after Harry's voice had died out. Everyone stood completely still, not yet having come to terms with Dumbledore's passing. Hermione's chest began aching as it always did when she thought of Dumbledore's burial ceremony and she looked over to Ron, who had a fiercely controlled expression on his face as he glared at Regulus.

When Hermione turned to Regulus, she was completely amazed by what she saw. His face was contorted in such a look of pain that she could barely stand to look at him. His eyes were wet at the corners, and his lips were drawn together so tightly that they had almost disappeared. Harry must have been just as confused as she was, for he released the front of Regulus' robes and took a step back.

"You have absolutely no cause to believe me," Regulus said, in a voice so quiet and raw that Hermione's chest constricted again. "But I never meant for that to happen. Dumbledore was an amazing man that had given me the benefit of the doubt when everyone I cared about turned their backs on me."

Harry ran a frustrated hand through his untidy hair. "We're going in circles here," he said dejectedly. "I am not any more or less convinced of anything than I was when Ron first told me of your letter."

Lupin nodded in agreement. "I think what we need now, before we have the luxury of physical proof, is a full explanation of how all of this started, Regulus. Maybe it will clear up some questions I know we all have."

"I don't even know where to begin," Regulus said, looking thoroughly overwhelmed. His eyes flashed back and forth between them all as they stood before him, almost like inquisitors in a trial.

"I find the beginning is more often than not a valid place," Lupin said, and Hermione could sense her old professor's own frustrations in his biting tone.

Regulus sighed heavily, the action looking as if it took a great deal of strength that he simply did not possess. He looked unbelievably fragile and small as his shoulders rolled forward and his head drooped like a man already convicted and sentenced.

"Very well then. As you already know, I was raised in this…house." He looked around him with a coldness in his eyes that left no doubt about what type of childhood could possibly be had in the dark and lonely residence. "Sirius was a good big brother, always making time for me and letting me tag along even when I knew he didn't really want me around. My parents were always busy holding meetings or going off to functions with people we were never allowed to meet. Sirius once told me, when I was very, very young, that they were not good people, but I was only a little boy. I depended on them for everything, and I didn't have the luxury of rebelling at the age of two."

He tried straightening his shoulders, but the ropes binding him kept him in a hunched position. "Sirius and my parents began fighting on a regular basis after his first year at Hogwarts. Whenever he'd return from school, he'd lock himself away in his room and he wouldn't come out for days. I would try to sneak in and see him, but my parents told me that Sirius didn't want to be my brother any longer. They told me that he didn't care for me, that he never had, and that he had friends at school that were now his family."

Lupin's hands folded into tight fists, but other than that, he didn't move a muscle as Regulus continued with his story. "Those were the worst years of my life…well, until I made the most horrible decision I've ever made…but I was only nine when my brother left our home for good. He went to stay at your grandparents' house, I believe," he said to Harry, who nodded almost imperceptibly. "My parents were furious, of course, and decided that he was no longer to be mentioned or even acknowledged as part of our family. For years they had been feeding me lies about Sirius and how much he hated me. They told me that he left home because of me and that I wasn't worthy of being a Black either. They were disappointed because I had no ambitions and told me daily that I would amount to nothing. Although I did everything I could to prove my worth to them, after a while, I began to believe them. I didn't really have a choice. Sirius, the one person who I thought loved me, had abandoned me without so much as a backwards glance.

I was lonely and unwanted, and when I was accepted to Hogwarts, I thought things would change for me. When I got there, however, I was placed in Slytherin. Sirius was out of school by then, but I could visually picture the look of disappointment and disgust on his face as I made my way to the Slytherin table." Here, he paused and looked up at each of them. "It was very similar to the look on your faces now."

Hermione attempted to erase the horrified look off her face, and tried to remind herself that to stereotype the houses within Hogwarts because of a few examples was not a wise thing to do. Sure, most dark witches and wizards came from the Slytherin house, but she was sure that there were just as many that were simply ambitious and focused on creating a bright future for themselves. Hadn't Harry told them once that the hat had wanted to sort him into Slytherin?

"My school years were just as lonely as my childhood had been. It seems that everyone remembered my brother and his presence was very much alive at the school even in his absence. My professors expected nothing but perfection from me, and were sorely disappointed when I fell short of their expectations. I was in danger of failing my first year, and when I returned home, my parents' told me if I didn't make something of myself next term they would give me over to an aunt and uncle who would be able to 'put up with me.'" He paused again, taking another steadying breath before continuing. Hermione almost didn't want him to. If he was lying, it was the best, most well-crafted lie she'd ever heard, and it was making her heart ache to hear the pain in his voice and see it etched in his features as he recalled the worst times of his life.

"I began my second year in utter fear that they would follow through with their threat. I began asking the older boys in my house for extra help with lessons, and many of them saw the opportunity to mold a young, impressionable boy in their own images with their warped beliefs." He shrugged here, his face looking more care-worn than it had all night. His straggly, chestnut hair fell into his face as he bowed it in embarrassment.

"It's at this point in my story that I must begin taking responsibility. I felt accepted and needed for the first time in my life, and I began to excel past all of my classmates under their tutelage. I was so obsessed by my newfound success, in fact, that when those boys had completed seventh year and moved on, I took up their role in the Slytherin house. I felt the overwhelming desire to pass on what I'd learned, and when I left Hogwarts, I was approached by those who had 'trained' me while I was in school. They told me that I was needed…that I was chosen because of my abilities."

Regulus' shoulders, instead of sagging even further at this point, suddenly straightened as best they could. A fierce look crossed his face, erasing all traces of defeat from the boyish features. "If I had known what I was really being recruited for, I would have never gone along. We met privately over the course of a month, in which they spoke of their leader and his plans. Once I was brought to the Death Eater's meeting place and met Voldemort, there was no turning back. I was given orders and told if I didn't follow them I would be dead before morning."

There was a beat after he finished speaking in which everyone waited to see if he would continue. Hermione looked at the others, to see if any of them had been swayed in the least by what Regulus had confessed. Harry looked as if he desperately wanted to believe him, but she didn't know whether that was because Regulus was his best chance at getting to Voldemort or because he actually believed him. Lupin was quietly observing Regulus closely, as he had been the entire evening. Ginny wore an expression similar to Lupin's as she considered Regulus from her vantage point directly in front of him.

When Hermione looked to Ron, she saw him still sitting with his arms folded across his chest, a mixture of empathy and wariness on his face. She understood the look immediately. Ron had grown up in the shadow of his brothers and wanted nothing more than to prove himself as an individual and be outstanding in his own right. Out of anyone in the room, Ron had the most cause to believe Regulus and the reasons for his actions.

"What was it you were asked to do?" Hermione asked, not able to keep her curiosity at bay.

Regulus swung his gaze to Harry and when he spoke, his voice was barely audible.

"Voldemort ordered me to kill James and Lily Potter."

Hermione saw Harry's face go so white that she was afraid he'd pass out on the spot. His fists balled up at his sides, and he took a step toward Regulus as if he would be able to kill him with his bare hands. She stepped forward quickly and laid a hand on Harry's arm.

"He didn't do it, Harry. Voldemort killed your parents," she pointed out desperately, trying to calm him down. Harry turned to her and stared at her with blank eyes. She was afraid he hadn't really heard her, so she continued. "It makes sense. Voldemort was only concerned with killing you. He would have wanted someone else to go after your parents."

"It's true," Regulus said, imploring Harry to believe him with his eyes. "He asked me to come along with him that night, but I chose to flee. I could never commit murder. I may have veered into dark magic at school, but I could never take another person's life. It's why he ordered me killed. I don't think I would have survived a month if you hadn't survived his curse. He would have been powerful enough to see through all of my cloaking spells and protections and he would have found me eventually. I knew that something must have gone terribly wrong for him when I found myself alive after a few weeks. I was able to obliterate the memory of the Death Eater he sent after me, and I planted new information within him speaking to my murder."

"Why did Sirius think you were dead?" Lupin asked, joining the conversation at last. "He was utterly convinced of it."

"I believe my brother fell for one of my more ingenious tricks," Regulus said, without a trace of a smile. "Word of my death spread about the country and I suppose with what little use he had for me already, he didn't really care to check into it. Besides, he was put in Azkaban shortly after, wasn't he?"

"That's right! He was, and you could have prevented that!" Harry bellowed, finding his anger again. "Yet you let him rot in there when you knew all along who had killed my parents!"

"Harry, what could I have done?" Regulus replied desperately. "Voldemort was gone…destroyed by you, and even my brother's friends believed him to be the murderer." He spared a glance at Lupin, who was looking rather drawn and exhausted by this point. "No one would have believed me if I went around saying that it was Voldemort who had done it. I would have exposed myself, and the information I had on Voldemort's horcruxes would have died along with me."

Harry looked around the room at them, beseeching each of them to say something that would clarify it all and make him believe, once and for all, if this was real or not. Hermione simply stared back at him, not knowing what to do or say in the slightest.

"I need a minute to think," Harry said, and without anything further, turned and walked out of the drawing room. Hermione looked at Ron, who watched Harry's flight from the room with a concerned expression on his face. Moments later, he pushed away from the desk and followed Harry out of the room.

Hermione and Ginny went after them, finding them in a small alcove off to the side of the main hall. Harry was leaning back against the wall, his eyes closed. Ron was standing off to his side, his hands shoved in his pockets and his gaze on the floor near his trainers.

Ginny didn't say a word as she went to Harry and slid her hand into his. He opened his eyes and stared at her for a long moment. He seemed to understand Ginny's stand on the matter, and nodded his head slightly. Then he turned his attention to Ron and Hermione.

"What do you think?" he asked simply, searching their faces for the answer.

Hermione sighed and pushed her hair behind her ears. "I don't think anyone can make up a story like that," she said. "It all makes sense in its own way, too. But the call is yours to make."

Harry nodded again and turned to Ron. "Just tell me I'm not crazy for believing him."

Ron shook his head. "Well, if you're crazy, then I am, too," he said. Harry sighed, closing his eyes briefly again before opening them with a clarity and resolve that Hermione hadn't seen since the night started.

"Okay," Harry said. "I guess that's that. Besides, what's the worst that could happen? If he's lying, and it's all a game to lead me to Voldemort, so what? Seeing as how I'll have to face him sooner or later, what do we have to lose?"

They all got very quiet for a long moment, each lost in their own thoughts. Hermione moved closer to Ron's side, needing the comfort of his nearness very badly at this point. His arm moved around her waist and settled on her hip, making her wonder again just how it was that he knew exactly what she needed, when she needed it.

The front door opened then, and they looked up to see Moody, Dawlish and Williamson striding into the hall.

"Where is he?" Dawlish asked, spotting them in the corner. "Did something happen?"

"No, everything's fine," Harry said, coming forward to meet them. "Did you get my stuff?" Dawlish pointed to a small box that Williamson was carrying.

"Shrunk it all down so it would travel better," he explained, then shot Harry an odd look. "Your family is quite interesting, Mr. Potter."

Harry almost cracked a smile then, but Hermione could sense that he was impatient to find out once and for all if there was in fact a horcrux hidden behind the portrait. "Well, let's get on with things," he said, walking back to the drawing room.

Hermione entered just as he was pulling his invisibility cloak out of the trunk. He turned to Lupin and offered it to him. Lupin shook his head. "She needs to see me leave. She knows I live here."

Harry looked around and realized that Mrs. Black had seen each of them in the hallway within the last few minutes. They would all have to leave through the front door so she would assume Regulus was alone. That didn't leave anyone to watch him from under the cloak.

"Wait a minute, is Tonks here?" Harry asked Lupin, who nodded.

"Yes, I think she's in her room," he replied. Realization dawned on his face and he disappeared with a pop. Seconds later, he materialized again, with Tonks at his side.

"I told you I don't want to be in the same room as him," Tonks spat, glaring at Regulus.

"We need you to hide under the cloak and monitor him while he retrieves something from behind the portrait," Lupin explained gently, touching her arm. "I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't need you to do this."

Her eyes grew soft as she stared back at him, and a moment later, she grabbed the invisibility cloak out of Harry's hands. "Fine," she said.

The rest of them made a big show of leaving the house, and once they were outside, Lupin pointed to a place where they could walk and be virtually invisible to the neighbors on all sides. Hermione felt Ron guide her as they walked, and despite the seriousness of the situation, she smiled. Ron was turning out to be so extremely attentive that it almost made her unnerved. She was trying desperately to reconcile the two versions of Ron she had in her head at this point. Most of the thoughtless, inconsiderate things he'd ever done or said to her were disappearing as if they'd never even existed in the first place, leaving her only with the things he had done that had proved, all along, that he cared about her.

"What?" he asked, shooting a glance at her out of the corner of his eye.

"What?" she asked in return. He stopped walking and put his hands on her upper arms.

"You have the strangest look on your face," he explained. "Sort of like you're trying to work something out, but not having any luck."

Hermione looked around her, and noticed that Harry and Ginny were engaged in their own private conversation – although Lupin, Moody, Dawlish and Williamson were hovering just close enough to make sure they were all protected. Ginny was nodding at something Harry was saying, but the look of anxiousness on her face told Hermione that she was struggling with whatever it was.

"I'm fine," Hermione said, smiling at him. "Really. I was just thinking over some stuff, and I got a bit sidetracked."

Ron sighed. "I was thinking over some stuff too," he said weakly. "I realized today that I'm going to have to tell my mother about us leaving soon. If Harry is ready to trust Regulus, and Regulus knows where the horcruxes are, I think our little excursion is going to start sooner than we thought."

Hermione brought her hands up and rested them against his chest. The strong, even heartbeat she felt under her palms comforted her in ways that she had never experienced before. "You'll be fine. Your father said he'd help you talk to her, didn't he?"

Ron nodded, and she grinned at him. "And if all else fails, you could always get her drunk."

His laugh echoed around them as they stood in the shadows of a larger house down the street. Lupin looked over to them, then his gaze snapped to the sky above where Number 12 would be if they could see it. There was a thin line of blue smoke spiraling into the air, and Lupin straightened his shoulders.

"Alright then," he announced. "That's Tonks' signal. They're finished."

When they reentered the house, they all cast furtive glances at the portrait of Mrs. Black, who was grinning wickedly down at them.

Harry scowled openly at it, then grabbed Ginny's hand and moved quickly past as if the portrait didn't even exist.

"YOU'RE TOO LATE!" Mrs. Black screamed, the full fury of her voice bouncing off the walls around them. Hermione had forgotten how truly chilling the woman's screeching was, and closed her eyes against the sound. "THE DARK LORD WILL SOON BE WHOLE AGAIN, AND ALL WHO OPPOSE HIM WILL RIGHTFULLY DIE! MY SON WAS JUST HERE, AND HE WILL SEE TO IT THAT YOU VILE, DISGUSTING CREATURES FALL AT THE FEET OF THE GREATEST WIZARD THAT EVER LIVED!"

Ginny had to tug on Harry to get him to start moving again, and Ron hustled Hermione into the drawing room as quickly as he could. Lupin followed, but Moody and the others stayed behind to see if they could get the portrait to go silent once again. Hermione caught a brief glimpse of her concerned parents rushing into the hall before Lupin closed the door on the horrible sounds.

Regulus was standing in the middle of the room, now free from his bonds. Tonks, who was still glaring at him heatedly, had her wand pointed at his chest. In his arms, Regulus was cradling an object that glinted in the low light of the room.

"Everything go alright?" Lupin asked, crossing to Tonks and placing an arm around her waist. Tonks' eyes didn't waver from her cousin as she nodded her head slowly.

Harry stepped forward then. "Well, what was behind the portrait?" he asked, staring Regulus down across the mere inches that separated them.

Regulus extended the object toward Harry, the merest trace of the boyish look Hermione assumed he'd carried with him his whole life returning to his gaunt face.

"Helga Hufflepuff's cup," he said simply, placing the object into Harry's waiting hands.

Harry turned the cup over in his hands, searching it with eyes that Hermione knew had become more world-weary than they should have been for a seventeen year old.

"Is it the real deal?" Ron asked. Harry nodded slowly, passing it to Lupin.

"I think so," he said, watching Lupin turn it over in much the same way he had. "I've seen it before, and it looks exactly the same."

"How on earth have you seen this before?" Lupin asked.

"Dumbledore took me back into Tom Riddle's past, and I saw this cup in one of his memories," Harry explained. "An old witch had it as part of a collection, along with the locket from Slytherin."

Regulus smiled then, catching Hermione off guard. His resemblance to his brother tripled when he smiled, and when she looked to Harry, she knew she wasn't the only one who thought so.

"The locket was destroyed a while ago," Regulus said, then pointed to the cup. "And now another piece can be destroyed tonight."

"How?" asked Harry, shaking off the memories of his godfather. "Is there a spell or an enchantment or something?"

"No. The means to destroy the horcruxes are much less complicated than the means to create them."

"I drove a Basilisk fang into the diary," said Harry. "But that was poisoned."

"It doesn't matter," Regulus asserted, shaking his head. "I know it seems contrived, but horcruxes are merely objects. They hold no magical powers, and therefore may be disposed of in the most normal of ways. A bit anti-climactic, but it is the truth."

Ron's eyes flitted to the fireplace, and he reached out for the cup. Lupin handed it to him, and they all watched as Ron placed the cup in Harry's hands once again.

"Go for it, mate," he said, nodding toward the flames that were rising out of the grate in a peaceful wave.

Harry hesitated only a second before he tossed it into the fire. It took a long moment for the cup to begin melting into a liquid gold, but it did happen. They all stood around the fireplace, watching the golden cup disappear slowly under the intense heat of the red-hot flames.

Hermione turned away from the fire to watch Regulus' face closely. His eyes were pinned on the bright flames, the intense light reflecting in his dark eyes. There was a calm, peaceful look of triumph on his face as he watched the very last of the gold slip over one of the logs.

If Hermione hadn't believed him after his story, she believed him now. He looked positively relieved that another piece of Voldemort was going up in smoke.

"That's three," he said quietly, a small smile playing across his face.

"Actually, that's four," said Harry. "Dumbledore destroyed Riddle's ring last year. That leaves two that we have to find."

"I thought you said there were seven," said Ron, his brows furrowed in confusion. "That would leave three, wouldn't it?"

Harry looked uncomfortable as he stood facing Ron. Hermione waited, her breath caught somewhere in her throat at the look on Harry's face.

"What is it, Harry?" she asked, unable to push past the feeling of dread that had just leapt into her chest. Harry cleared his throat and opened his mouth, but his eyes averted to the floor and he remained silent.

"There are only two more horcruxes to be found," said Regulus, his voice soft but the intent of the words reverberated around the room with the same power as if he'd shouted them. "The last piece of Voldemort's soul remains within himself."

Ginny's hand, which had still been resting in Harry's suddenly slipped from his grasp. "So even if you find the other two, you'll still have to face him?" she asked in a tense voice. "I just assumed that once the horcruxes were destroyed, he would simply vanish…"

"Dumbledore said that even if we destroyed all the horcruxes, Voldemort will still be powerful enough to face me as a competent enemy," Harry said quietly. Hermione swallowed hard against the lump in her throat. She had to admit to herself that she had thought along the same lines as Ginny. She had thought that without the horcruxes – the pieces of his very soul – Voldemort would turn to dust or something like that and Harry would be spared the final confrontation of having to meet him face to face.

"But if we find the other two, he will be decidedly weaker than he would be with them," Regulus said, his low voice breaking the silence that followed Harry's confession. Harry turned to Regulus with an unreadable look on his face.

"We?" he asked. Regulus nodded silently, the full meaning of his statement being absorbed by everyone in the room. Lupin suddenly strode forward and stood between Harry and Regulus.

"No. I won't allow it," he said, his voice sternly obstinate. "Even if your intentions are honest, I should be the one going with them. If Voldemort finds out you're alive, he has as much reason to want to hunt you down and kill you as he does Harry, and with the two of you out there together he'll stop at nothing to find you."

"You must allow me to make up for the mistakes I've made in the past," Regulus argued in a quiet voice. "I have been witness to Voldemort's favorite haunts…the places he considers sacred to him for various reasons. I think I have a good idea where we can start looking for the fifth horcrux."

"Then tell me and I'll take them there," Lupin argued, not willing to give up that easily. "I have my own reasons for wanting to go, and you can't take that away from me, either."

"My life has been destroyed by Voldemort, as has Harry's. We share at least that in common," said Regulus, his tone never wavering.

"My life has been destroyed, too!" shouted Lupin. "I've lost my best friends and the chance to ever see them again! I was unable to protect the people who loved Harry most in the world. I can't lose him, too!"

The room stretched under the silence that sprung up around them as the two men stared each other down. Harry was looking at Lupin with a tightly controlled expression on his face, and Hermione felt the sting of tears behind her eyes as she considered Harry closely. He had always wondered where Lupin fit into his life, and here he was, showing Harry exactly how much he cared for the son of his best friends.

Harry stepped out from behind Lupin. "I'm going to need to ask you to stay here," he said quietly to Lupin, who opened his mouth as if to argue his point further. "No," Harry cut him off, continuing quickly. "I need you here for so many reasons, but most importantly, I don't trust anyone else to watch out for the Weasleys. They're going to need all the friends they can get, and they'll be worried about Ron constantly. They care about you, and you'll be able to be there for them when we can't." His eyes slid to Ginny, who was staring down at the ground in an intense effort on her part not to cry. He looked back to Lupin, and stared hard at him. "Do you understand?"

Lupin's gaze also flickered to Ginny quickly before returning to Harry. He looked thoroughly defeated, but obviously understood Harry's meaning. "Yes," he said quietly – so quietly in fact that Hermione had to strain to hear him.

Harry turned to Regulus then, who was watching the entire scene with sad eyes. It was apparent to Hermione that he did not wish to come with them as some egotistical boost or a way to settle a personal vendetta. He simply felt that he could truly help, and if Hermione didn't miss her guess, he was more than willing to sacrifice himself for the cause.

"Well, when do we start?" asked Harry, his own voice now sounding strained and very, very tired.

"Would you be ready to go tomorrow?" asked Regulus after a long, heavy pause.

Ginny made a sound of protest and quickly left the room, her long hair flying behind her as she whipped around the doorframe. Tonks' face fell as she watched her go, then she touched Lupin's shoulder gently and went after her.

Harry's shoulders slumped for a moment, and Hermione went to his side immediately. She put a hand on his elbow, trying to convey with her touch all of the strength she possessed…which at this point she feared wasn't very much.

Ron joined them and stood on the other side of Harry. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets – which Hermione knew he only did when he was trying to hide how nervous he was. It didn't matter, though. With him standing there, Harry seemed to come to himself a bit and he straightened his shoulders.

"Can we meet you here after supper?" he asked Regulus in a low voice. "We have some things to take care of before we get started."

Regulus nodded sadly, his eyes conveying his empathy and a bit of regret as well. Hermione wondered what it would have been like for Harry if he had to go off on this without anyone to say goodbye to or to miss him and wait for his safe return. She felt even worse for Regulus than she already did, and she tried smiling at him in what she hoped was a thankful way.

"Very well, then," said Regulus in a final tone. He turned to Lupin and gestured toward the material that had been used to cover his face earlier. "I would like to rest now, if that's alright. Any room you can spare will suffice."

Lupin stared hard at Regulus as he handed him the sack. "The only room that isn't occupied is your brother's," he said. "It's yours if you want it."

"My brother's?" Regulus asked, the shock evident on his face. Lupin nodded, and Regulus' eyes grew suspiciously bright. "No, I don't think that he would want me there. The couch in the study will do just fine."

He placed the sack over his head and stood completely still, waiting for Lupin to guide him out of the room. Lupin watched Regulus for a long moment before turning to them with an unreadable look on his face.

"I'd suggest you all get home, now. You have quite a bit to do before tomorrow," he said.

Hermione went and opened the door for him. "I have a favor to ask you before you go," she said, as he took hold of Regulus' elbow. "I'm going to say goodbye to my parents tonight, and I think it would be easier for us all if they weren't here tomorrow night. Is it possible to let them go somewhere?"

Lupin nodded, completely understanding Hermione's situation. "I'll ask Moody and the others to take them into town for a while," he said.

"Thanks," said Hermione quietly, afraid her emotions would get the better of her. She moved aside so Lupin and Regulus could get by, and turned to the boys. Her eyes connected with Ron's immediately, and she could tell by the look on his face that he wanted to be there for her when she said goodbye to her parents, but understood why he couldn't. He gave her an encouraging smile, which she tried to return and failed.

"I'll only be a few minutes," she said in a weak, shaky voice. "Go find Ginny and I'll meet you back here in ten minutes."

Harry nodded and left the room in a hurry, as if he'd been waiting for the moment he could go and see if Ginny was alright. When he had cleared the room, Ron strode up to her and wordlessly engulfed her in his arms.

She leaned into him and breathed deeply, drawing strength simply from his presence. "I'm so afraid I'll break down completely in front of them," she whispered. "I don't want to make them more upset then they'll already be, but this could very well be the last time…"

"Don't even say it," Ron interrupted, holding her even tighter. "I mean it. We're going to be fine, so you don't have to say goodbye to them. Tell them you love them, and that you'll see them soon. End of story."

"Ron," she said, pulling away from him enough to see his face. "I know we don't want to think that way, but that doesn't stop the reality of what we're facing. I can't tell them I'll see them soon. I don't know when I'll see them again."

Ron considered her words, but he shook his head all the same. "You will see them soon. We can apparate home for a quick Christmas visit. That's the brilliance of apparating. Anywhere in the world in seconds."

She wanted to tell him how unlikely that was. She wanted to tell him that she highly doubted if they would simply apparate home if they were in the middle of a dark castle, searching the rooms for the elusive horcruxes, to share some Christmas pudding and open a few presents.

But she didn't. She saw how important the idea was to him, and she wanted to give him that little piece of hope. So instead, she tilted her face up to him and pulled his mouth down to meet hers.

"I'll be back soon," she said, releasing him and walking toward the door.

"Hermione," he called out before she could disappear through it. She turned to face him again and saw the look of hope grow in his eyes.

"You will see them again. I'm going to make sure of it," he said so emphatically, so passionately, that the small ray of hope she herself had been clinging to expanded in her body so that it filled her up momentarily. She found herself, for the first time in weeks, dreaming of a future that could possibly happen.

His gaze held hers so steadily that her heart felt as if it was going to burst. In this very moment, she felt herself falling under a spell that had nothing to do with magic. She would be safe because he would be there to protect her, as he always had. She believed him when he said they would be alright.

She believed him because she loved him.

* * *

_**Okay, so this will be one more chapter! Tried to make it an even 10, but the characters just don't like to cooperate with me. For instance, Regulus wasn't supposed to give you his life history, but once he started, I couldn't stop him. Sorry!**_

_**Also, this was a very talkie chapter, and I apologize for that as well, not much action. However, as in all literature, there has to be a lull before the denouement…things have to calm down before the finale to give people a chance to recharge and gear up for the ending…that includes me, probably most of all!**_

_**The final chapter will be very angsty in the beginning with lots of heart to hearts, so it might not come out for a while. I want to get the conversations right, and it takes time to let them talk to each other in my head…(no, I'm not crazy – or am I?)**_

**_I just want to take this opportunity to thank you all again for your support and encouragement. I had so much fun writing this for you all. I hope this finds you all happy, healthy and safe._**

_**snoopygubs**_


	11. Keep A Light On

**Invisible Scars**

_**I must apologize for the length of time that has passed since I have updated, but I have many, many reasons for not continuing this within the last few weeks that I won't get into now. Reality became quite real for a while, and I didn't have the time to devote to this. I hope there are those of you out there still looking for the conclusion, and I hope you'll revisit me and my stories when I post a new one I've been thinking up recently. This has been a lot of fun, and a very incredible experience for me. Your kind words and encouragement have meant everything, and I hope this finds everyone happy and healthy as we enter the holiday season. **_

_**By the way, Goblet of Fire, the movie…what did you guys think? I liked it, but I didn't think they should have spent time on things that weren't in the book and cut out things that were. The ball was amazing, however, although the whole Harry checking Hermione out thing really bugged me out. The ending was pretty spot on with what I remember reading, and I was overall pretty impressed. The book is still a million times better, though. As they usually are.**_

_**Okay, enough of all that. On with the last part…**_

**Chapter 11 – Keep A Light On**

Ron wiped his face with the damp towel lying next to the sink in the bathroom, shaking from head to foot. It had always been like this for him. Every time he got sick, his whole body would uncontrollably shake until the waves of nausea passed. This time, however, the feeling wasn't passing. In fact, if anything, it was getting worse and worse by the second.

He leaned over the toilet again and vomited until he felt there couldn't possibly be anything left in his stomach. Pushing himself up on unsteady legs, he glanced at his reflection in the mirror. His hair was plastered to his sweating forehead, his face completely red with exertion. Pushing the towel against his face once more, he took a deep breath and willed his stomach to regain some sense of balance.

As soon as they'd gotten back from Grimmauld Place, the nauseous feeling had taken hold of him and he'd been unable to shake it. When his mother had entered the room, looking at the three of them with wide, concerned eyes, he hadn't been able to take it. He'd sped past her and locked himself in the bathroom, where he'd promptly discarded of about a week's worth of meals in a matter of seconds.

He knew he had to get himself together and tell his mother what they had planned. He also knew he had to start getting ready to go.

What he did, though, was sink onto the cold bathroom floor and close his eyes against the new wave of nausea that swept over him. In a way, it was appropriate. He was sick of himself, and the irony didn't escape him. Harry and Hermione weren't vomiting. Harry and Hermione weren't hiding away in the loo because it was a lot easier to put off reality.

He groaned at his own cowardice and banged the back of his head against the counter he was leaning against.

"Ron?"

His father's voice carried through the door, snapping him out of his reverie. "Yeah, dad?" he called back, pushing up off the floor and running his hands through his hair to make himself appear halfway presentable.

"You alright, son?"

"Fine," he lied, wiping away the last of the moisture left on his pale face.

"I think it's time to have that talk with your mother now," his father said, causing the waves of nausea to roll within him once more. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply again, and by the time he opened them, some color had returned to his face.

"Okay," he called back. "Give me a minute?"

"I'll be in the kitchen with your mother," his father replied. Ron waited until he heard his footsteps disappear before filling the sink with very cold water and dunking his entire head in.

After brushing his teeth and quickly drying his hair, he made his way down to the kitchen. He didn't see Harry, Hermione or Ginny, and the absence of them all made him nervous.

When he entered the kitchen, he saw his mother cradling a cup of hot tea, although there was a strong smell of firewhiskey in the air as well. His father was standing against the counter, his eyes trained on the doorway.

"Ron, what is all of this about?" his mother asked him warily. Ron couldn't remember his mother ever looking quite this old before. There were lines around her mouth and dark circles under her eyes, which were focused on his intently from where she sat. "Your father says you need to speak to me, and with all that's been going on, I know it can't be good."

Ron sighed and sank into a chair across from his mother. For long seconds he simply sat there, not knowing where to begin or what he could possibly say that would keep her from losing it completely.

"Go on, son," his father said from his position against the counter. Ron looked at him quickly and saw the encouraging look cross his father's face. "It'll be alright."

Ron cleared his throat and faced his mother again. For the next five minutes, Ron set about explaining the situation surrounding his departure as best he could, saving the news that he was actually leaving for last. The entire time he talked, his mother's eyes grew wider and wider. When he finally came out and said that he, Harry and Hermione would be going off in search of the horcruxes, her face grew pale and she sat completely still in her chair.

"Molly, dear," his father said, having moved behind her while Ron talked, "are you alright?" His hands were resting on his wife's shoulders, but she didn't appear to realize they were there. She simply stared back at Ron, eyes shining with unshed tears.

"Mum?" he said, reaching out to touch her arm.

As soon as his fingertips touched her arm, she seemed to snap back to herself. Her tears were falling freely now.

"You leave tomorrow, and you're telling me now?" she asked, her voice the most deadly calm that Ron had ever heard it. If she'd started yelling at him, he'd know how to deal with it. But this…this was sheer torture. He felt as if he'd ripped her heart out and stomped on it right before her eyes.

"Yes," he said, chagrined.

"He wanted to wait until after the wedding, dear, and to be fair they just found out they're leaving tomorrow," his father said, patting her shoulders reassuringly.

His mother stiffened and suddenly bolted up out of her chair, throwing her husband's hands off her. "You knew about this for all this time and you didn't tell me?" she snarled, facing him with a cold gaze. "You knew our son was going off to fight You-Know-Who and instead of letting me get adjusted to the idea the two of you decide to spring it on me now and expect me to be fine with it!"

"Molly," his father began, taking a step toward her.

"No, don't you speak to me right now," she said in the same cold, chilling voice. She turned to Ron and for a moment he thought she would crumble and take him in her arms. Her tears were still falling onto her cheeks, but she didn't make a sound as her shoulders dropped and she pushed past him and ran out of the room as quickly as she could.

Ron felt everything inside him shut down and he let his head fall onto the table in front of him. He didn't think that he'd ever be able to get his mother's face just then out of his mind.

"I'll talk to her in a bit," his father said in a low, shaking voice. "She just needs to deal with this on her own first."

Ron heard his father leave the kitchen, but he couldn't bring himself to raise his head. He suddenly felt extremely weak and very, very tired. If this is how this whole thing was starting off, how in the world would he have enough strength to carry on when it would mean the difference between life and death?

He didn't know how long he sat there, but suddenly he heard footsteps on the stairs just outside the kitchen.

"Ron?"

His head came up at his sister's voice, and he could tell by her blotchy face that she'd been crying.

"Hey," he said, his voice sounding almost dead to his own ears. "Where've you been?"

"My room," she said. She moved past him and opened the refrigerator, taking out a pitcher of pumpkin juice and pouring herself a glass. Ron watched her, realizing this would be the last time, for a long, long while, that he'd be able to watch her do anything so trivial and commonplace. His gut twisted painfully and he found it hard to breathe.

"Ginny, I just want you to know –"

"Don't," she interrupted, turning to face him so quickly she spilled juice all over the floor. "I don't want to do this. Not with you."

"You aren't going to let me say goodbye?" he asked incredulously. "First mum, now you."

"Mum didn't take it well, I gather?" she asked, her irritated tone falling away. She sat next to him and pushed what remained of her juice toward him.

"She didn't even speak to me," he said dejectedly. "I don't think I've ever wanted to hear her scream her head off more than I do right now."

Ginny contemplated his words for a minute, then shook her head. "You can't expect her to understand with so little warning. She'll come around soon enough."

"Sooner than tomorrow?" he asked, then flinched at Ginny's wounded look. "Sorry," he said, running a hand across his face. "I'm not quite sure I know how to do this."

"None of us do," Ginny reasoned sadly. "How do you say goodbye when it could very well be…"

She cut off abruptly, giving herself a violent shake. "Nevermind. I promised myself I wouldn't get all dramatic and everything over this. That's the last thing any of you need right now."

"So you're not going to say goodbye to Hermione? Or Harry?" he asked, surprised. "You're just going to let us all leave without a word?"

Ginny's gaze snapped up to his. "What is it you want from me, Ron? Do you want me to start sobbing on your shoulder, begging you not to go?" She pounded her fist down on the table so hard that the goblet of juice toppled over and the remainder of the liquid pooled in the middle of the table. "Because I can do that. In fact, I want to do that, but I don't see the bloody point! You will all leave anyway!"

Silence overtook both of them after her outburst, and in it Ron tried to think of all the things he wanted to say to his sister. None of them seemed like the kind of things she wanted to hear right now, so he kept his mouth shut.

Ginny's lower lip began trembling, giving away her true feelings. "Besides, I've said my own goodbyes to Hermione, and she understands that I can't say more."

"What about Harry?" Ron asked. Ginny blinked rapidly, turning away from him.

"Harry knows how I feel about him. There isn't anything more to say that we haven't already said to each other," she said quietly.

"That's not true."

Ron and Ginny turned to the doorway. Harry was standing there, his eyes trained on Ginny.

"Harry, I just told Ron I don't want to do all of this," Ginny said, her voice stern and much stronger than Ron knew she felt.

"Well, that's too bad, because I have some things I need to say to you before we go," Harry said, taking a step into the room. Ron heard more footsteps on the stairs, and moments later, Hermione appeared behind Harry.

"I can't do this, Harry!" Ginny yelled, causing Hermione to grab Harry's arm before he could take another step into the room. Ron looked back and forth between his sister and Harry, and the intensity between them was almost a living, breathing thing.

Harry shrugged off Hermione's hand. "Can we go somewhere?" he asked Ginny, pinning her with his gaze.

"No," she snapped quickly, glaring back at him.

"Fine," said Harry. "Then I'll just tell you I love you in front of your brother and your best friend."

In Ron's surprised opinion, Harry had never looked so at ease with himself, so sure. Usually Harry avoided emotional confrontations at all costs, but it appeared as if being faced with imminent uncertainty was enough to bring it out in him.

The look of hostility fled from Ginny's face, and although she didn't look exactly happy at Harry's confession, Ron could tell by her eyes that she was taking in every last word.

"I've never been happier in my life than when I'm with you," Harry continued, completely oblivious to the fact that Ron was sitting right next to Ginny and that Hermione was hovering close behind him. "I just want you to know that the best, easiest, most natural thing I've ever done has been loving you."

Ginny pushed out of her seat so fast that it flew behind her. Ron was reminded strongly of his mother and he moved so he wouldn't be in the line of fire between the two of them.

"I told you, I don't want to talk about it!" shouted Ginny, her face getting red.

"I do," said Harry calmly, walking toward her. She backed away from him until she was up against the refrigerator, and she put her hands up to ward him off.

"Stop being so selfish!" she bellowed at his encroaching form. "Don't you care what this is doing to me at all?"

"I care about everything that happens to you, but this needed to be said," he reasoned.

Ginny glared at him for another moment, before pushing him squarely in the chest. "Fine!" she yelled hotly. "Fine, if that's the way you want it! I love you too, you great prat!" Ginny started crying then, looking as if she wasn't going to stop for a few hundred years.

Ron felt Hermione's hand slide into his and before he knew it, they were walking toward the living room. She sank onto the couch in front of the fireplace, pulling him down with her. "I didn't think Harry had it in him," she said quietly, settling against the back of the couch wearily. "Then again, goodbyes are often bittersweet and emotional."

"I wouldn't know. Both my mum and Ginny won't let me say my goodbyes," he said, focusing on the burning embers of the fire. Hermione's hand tightened in his and he sighed heavily. "When we got back today, I got so sick that I had to lock myself in the bathroom."

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wanted to crawl under the couch and hide. How in the world had that actually come out just now? And why? It was bad enough he was a huge chicken, but to have her think that of him as well would be absolute torture. His face grew red and he kept his eyes carefully trained on the fire.

"I've felt sick all day, too," she said, sliding closer to him on the couch.

"Yeah? But you didn't vomit because you're so scared you can't even see straight," he said before he could think. When he realized what he'd just said, he felt the incredible urge to sprint up to his room and never come down again. Hermione and Harry would be much better off without a huge chicken following them around everywhere anyway. He couldn't figure out why all of these embarrassing truths were pouring forth now, in front of her…the one person he wanted to impress the most. The one person he wanted to think of him as a strong, brave, capable man.

He was just thinking that someone could have spiked one of his drinks with Veritaserum when Hermione's arm linked through his and her body pressed up against his side.

"I'm scared, too," she said. "In fact, when I was saying goodbye to my parents earlier, I started crying so hard I hyperventilated."

Ron turned his attention away from the fire and looked at her. "Was it that awful?"

"My mother couldn't say a word to me the whole time. I guess if she'd started talking, she was afraid she'd fall apart or something. My dad wouldn't let me go, and finally my mother had to pry me out of his arms," she said, her eyes welling up at the memory. Ron's arm went about her and she leaned into him. "I don't think this is easy for anyone, so don't think that a little nausea is something to be ashamed of."

"No, Hermione, it is," Ron said, shaking his head. "Harry would never get sick at the thought of what he was about to go off and do. He understands why he needs to go, and if it makes him scared, he pushes it away so he can keep a clear head. He faces his fears head on, and I face mine by shoving my head in a toilet."

Hermione shifted in his arms so she was looking up at him, and her face was set with a blazing look.

"You're being entirely unfair to yourself," she demanded hotly. "Harry does what he has to do because he feels it's his destiny…his responsibility. He has taken this on and understands that he needs to see it through, so he has no choice but to be brave."

She paused and pushed herself up and away from him so she was looking straight into his face. Her hands came up to rest against his chest and as always, Ron grew calm under her touch.

"You, on the other hand, are doing this because you love your friends and it's unthinkable to you to let him do this alone. You don't have to go, but you can't not go. It's the bravest thing I've ever seen, and I won't allow you to think otherwise," she finished resolutely, her gaze still holding his.

Ron's entire body reacted to her words. How had he ever seen her as anything less than the love of his life? She had the amazing ability to see to the heart of him and tell him what he needed to hear every single time. She made him feel invincible…as if he was the best person she'd ever known. His chest constricted tightly under her hands and he was overcome with such a surge of respect and love for her that it almost winded him.

"What?" she asked, when he remained silently staring at her for a bit too long. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Do you know how unbelievable you are?" he asked, lowering his gaze to the floor. "I've never known anyone like you, and I don't know what I did to deserve having you in my life."

When she didn't say anything in return, he looked back up and found her staring into the fire with an odd expression on her face.

"Hermione?" he said softly, trying to break into her reverie. "What are you thinking?"

She shook her head, and he could see a stray tear work its way out of the corner of her eye. "Ron, did you ever think that we'd be here, like this, when you first met me on the train to school?"

"Honestly? Never," he said, chuckling a bit at the remembrance of their first meeting.

"Me neither," she said, her voice sounding funny. "But now, doesn't it seem as if we've been leading to this since that moment all along?"

Ron fell silent, considering her words. He thought back over all their fights, squabbles, struggles…every little moment they spent together, laughing, bickering, studying, watching out for each other…

"Do you mean could I have seen this turning out any other way?" he asked. She nodded, and he smiled at her profile. "You know something? No. I think that somewhere along the way I knew that there wouldn't be anyone else for me."

"There couldn't be anyone else for me, either," she said softly, still not meeting his eyes. "Even when we were just friends, I knew that it was you all along."

"Hey," he said, putting his hand out to gently turn her face to his. Their eyes met, and he held her gaze intently.

"I'm not good with all of the mushy stuff, and I'm sorry for that," he said, tracing her jawline with his thumb. "I saw how you looked when Harry told Ginny he loved her, like you were wishing you'd heard those words from me." When she made a motion to interrupt him, he shook his head and continued on quickly. "No, let me finish. I do, you know. I guess I didn't say anything because to me, they are such small words compared to how I feel. I mean, I've loved you for years, as my best friend. You were always the one person I could count on to keep me in line, to make me a better person than I could be on my own because you believed I could be. I began falling for you years ago, but I was too young and stupid to know what it all meant. Last year was the first year I understood what it meant to love you like you deserved to be loved, but only after I'd hurt you so badly. It was more than I deserved to get another chance at showing you how I felt about you. So I guess what I'm trying to say here…very badly…is that telling you I love you seems like it's almost not enough."

Hermione's eyes drifted closed momentarily as she allowed his words to penetrate. When she opened them again, she had a look of utter serenity on her face.

"I understand completely," she said softly.

He pulled her closer, needing to feel her against him – the contact that had become as vital to him as air. "I know you do," he said in a low voice. "Which is exactly why I love you so bloody much."

They moved together seamlessly, naturally, as if they were made to fit together as perfectly as they did. Their lips met as they always did, with tentative softness at first, growing into a fervor for each other that couldn't be denied.

* * *

When his mother didn't show up for dinner, Ron's spirits plummeted. He really figured that all she needed was a bit of time to vent and blow off steam and she'd be cooking them up a lavish going-away dinner with more food than they'd be able to eat in a month.

As it was, Ron, Hermione, Harry and Ginny made a few sandwiches late into the night and retired to their rooms shortly after to begin packing for the journey. Harry was helping Ron pick out the things he thought Ron would need, waving his wand at a stack of books on the corner of his desk.

"Your mum will come around," Harry said in a quiet voice. More so than anyone, Harry had felt her absence. He kept saying that it was all his fault and that she probably hated Harry for taking her son away from her and ruining her daughter's life.

"We leave tomorrow morning," Ron said, equally as quiet. He didn't know if he'd be able to leave, knowing that his mother was so disappointed in him that she couldn't even say goodbye to him. It caused his chest to hurt just thinking about it.

"Well, you're almost finished," Harry said, surveying the trunk loaded with clothes and various odds-and-ends Fred and George had given them 'just in case'.

Ron shrank the trunk down and packed away the extra things he wouldn't be taking. He stood in the middle of his orange room and looked around at the faded posters and ratty curtains.

"Feels kind of strange being in this room now," he said out loud. "I begged my mother to let me paint it orange when I was ten. I practically sold my soul to Fred and George to get the Cannons posters, and now I feel like I've outgrown it all. This stuff used to be so important to me, and now it's just stuff."

"You mean the putrid paint and the posters of a team that is consistently rubbish?" asked Harry, snapping Ron out of his maudlin musings. Ron saw the wry grin on Harry's face and chucked a wadded up shirt at his head.

"I'm trying to be sentimental about my childhood here," said Ron in mock outrage. "A little compassion, please, Harry."

"Sorry."

They got into bed and Ron doused the light. "Last night at the Burrow," he said aloud.

"Yeah," replied Harry through the darkness.

"Well, at least until all of this is over and we can come back," said Ron, putting as much hope into his voice as he could.

"Yeah," said Harry again, although his voice didn't sound full of hope at all.

"Harry, we're going to be fine, and you want to know how I know?" Ron said, rolling over so he was facing the wall where Harry's cot rested.

"I'm sure you're going to tell me anyway," said Harry, trying to be flippant, but failing miserably.

"We have too much to come back to. Ginny, my parents, my brothers, our friends…"

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Harry said, his voice sounding stronger this time.

"Of course I'm right. Besides, with the three of us together, Voldemort doesn't stand a chance."

"You're not going to burst out into song or anything, are you?"

A pillow flew across the room and muffled Harry's snigger. Pig hooted softly in his cage as if agreeing with his master's statement, no matter how corny it may have sounded to his best friend.

* * *

The next morning, as Ron, and Hermione were bringing their things downstairs to be ready for when they left, the back door banged open and the silence of the house was broken by a bunch of voices talking over each other.

"I hope you didn't think you lot would leave without saying a proper goodbye," Ron heard Charlie say as he entered the room, followed closely by Percy, Fred, George, Bill and Fleur.

"What are you two doing here?" Ron asked Bill. "Aren't you guys supposed to be on your honeymoon?"

"Mum owled us last night and told us we needed to come back home," he said, crossing the room to stand in front of Ron. "I figure she thought I'd be able to talk you out of it."

"You can't," Ron said, meeting his oldest brother's gaze evenly.

"I know that," Bill said, nodding in understanding. "I wasn't even going to try. I just wanted to…well, you know…I wanted to have a chance to say –"

Fleur rushed forward then and enveloped Ron in a hug. "What my husband is trying to say is that we love you, and we're very proud of you."

Ron looked over Fleur's shoulder at Bill, who was staring at Ron with his jaw set firmly. "Yeah, that's about right," he said, averting his eyes quickly as Fleur released Ron. "Just keep us in the know, okay? I mean it. Letters and maybe even a visit or two if you can manage it." He came forward then and grabbed Ron roughly in a quick embrace. "Take care of yourself, little brother."

"I will," Ron said, not trusting himself to talk much more than that. In fact, as Charlie came up next to hug him, Ron was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to say another word until he left the house.

Percy extended his hand, as if he was unsure if Ron was willing yet to accept an embrace from him. Ron realized how petty he had been regarding Percy in that one moment, and even though he still felt as if Percy had behaved like a world-class git, he was still his brother, and he loved him. He pulled Percy in for a quick hug, seeing over his shoulder that Harry and Hermione were now being surrounded by the others. It made him feel good that his brothers all thought of them as part of the family.

"Well, Ron…" Fred said as he and George stepped up to have their turn at a goodbye. Ron waited for the quips they would surely fire off, saying goodbye in their own unique way.

They never came, however. Fred pulled him in for a fierce hug, and as soon as he was released, George stepped forward and did the same. This, more than anything else, drove home the point that he would be missed terribly. His throat closed up, and he extracted himself quickly from George so he could turn away and collect himself.

Too late, he realized he'd turned right into Ginny, who was shaking with the effort she was putting out to keep herself from crying. Their eyes met, and with a muffled sob, she threw herself into his arms and clung to him as tightly as she could.

"I'm going to miss you so much," she said in a broken voice. "Please be careful, and watch out for them."

"I will. I love you, Gin," he said, releasing her and wiping the tears off her cheeks. "I promise I'll get him back to you."

Ginny took a steadying breath at his words and forced her tears to stop. Ron was amazed by the strength of his sister, and drew his own strength from it. She kissed his cheek before moving off to hug Hermione, which Ron watched with sad eyes. He knew how important the two of them had become to each other, and as the girls clung to each other, neither letting a single tear fall, he realized how fated all of this had been. He had met Harry and Hermione for a reason, and this was it. They needed to become a part of his family.

After all of the goodbyes had been said, Ron looked around anxiously for any sign of his parents. He hated to think that his mother was so heartbroken that she couldn't even come down to see him off.

His father came in just then, alone, and after he'd talked with Harry and Hermione, and hugged them both as if they were his own, he crossed the room to Ron.

"Where's mum?" Ron asked, afraid that his father would say what he'd just been fearing.

"She's outside in the garden. She wanted to see the three of you alone before you apparate," his father explained. Ron nodded, and his father clasped his shoulders.

"I couldn't be any prouder of you than I am right now, Ron. I'm going to miss you terribly, and worry about you constantly, but I do understand. I love you, son," he said in a low voice, gripping Ron's arms even tighter as he spoke.

Ron swallowed past the lump in his throat. "I love you too, dad. I'll send word when we get settled."

There was nothing else to do, nothing more to say. Harry let his hand fall from Ginny's as the three of them made their way out the back door. Ron saw that he refused to turn and look back at her, and he understood. He couldn't look back at any of them right now. It would have broken him.

His mother was waiting for them by the back gate, right alongside the designated apparating area. She was holding herself very still and as they approached, Ron could see the hundreds of emotions fighting for control in her eyes.

Before any of them could say a word, his mother stepped forward and commanded their attention. "I have something to say, and you'll each listen to me."

Ron looked to Harry, then to Hermione, who were both wearing identical expressions. They appeared half afraid, half overwhelmed by their feelings for the formidable woman standing in front of them.

"Arthur explained why you were going, and it is admirable. You are doing the right thing, and I know that. It is logical, and it makes sense. You three have always had something about you that could get you through anything, and I truly believe that you will do what needs to be done," she said, her tone indicating that their failure was neither an option nor a possibility. She turned her attention to Harry, zeroing in on him with now shining eyes.

"You became friends with my son for a reason. You needed a family, and you found one, with us. I couldn't love you any more than if you were one of my own." Harry looked down at his feet, but she didn't let him do so for long. She lifted his chin up with one hand. "If it was up to me, you wouldn't have to do this at all. You would be able to live a normal life and enjoy being young. But you were meant to do this, just as much as you were meant to be a part of this family."

She turned to Hermione then, who was now openly crying. His mother took up her hands and held them tenderly. "I've watched you grow from a bossy little thing into the unbelievably beautiful and courageous woman you've become. It isn't hard to see why my son loves you so much."

Hermione sniffled and blinked furiously to keep the torrent of tears Ron knew she wanted to unleash at a minimum. His mother released one of her hands and brushed a strand of hair behind Hermione's ear. "If you weren't going with them, I wouldn't feel as comfortable. But I know my boys are going to be fine because they have you to look after them and keep them safe. You are the smartest person I've ever had the honor of knowing, and I've grown to love you very much."

Ron watched as his mother hugged Hermione gently to her, feeling so lucky that the person that he knew he'd share his life with was already a part of his family in so many ways. His chest constricted as his mother released Hermione and turned to him, her eyes growing bright for the first time since she'd begun speaking.

"Last night I had to leave because I simply couldn't get past the fact that my baby was a grown man who could make up his own mind. All I kept seeing as you talked to me was the little boy who would cling to my hand any time one of his brothers did anything mean to him." She took a step closer to him and brushed the hair out of his eyes. "To me, you'll always be my little boy, but I am so proud of the man you've become. You're loyal and brave, and it makes me feel like I've done something right when I see your capacity for loving others. You were too young to remember the first war and how hard your father and I fought to protect those we loved, but now it's your turn." Her voice broke and she pulled him into a tight embrace, rocking back and forth as she had when he was little and he'd gotten hurt. The only difference was this time, her head rested against his chest. "I love you, Ron. No mother could be prouder of her son than I am of you."

Ron closed his eyes and held his mother close. He knew how hard this was for her, and for her to let them leave with her blessings was a big step. "We'll send word when we're settled somewhere," he said, his voice sounding funny to his own ears. He felt his mother nod against him and he looked up to see Hermione standing very close to Harry, wiping the tears off her cheeks. Harry was looking off across the yard, a strange tightness around his features.

His mother released him, kissing him quickly and wiping at her own eyes. "Very well then. I've said my piece, and it's time you got going."

They picked up their bags and stood right outside the gate, not wanting to leave but finding it hard to stay any longer. His mother looked them all over one last time, then nodded and gave a smile. "Off you go then," she said softly. "Watch out for each other and write as often as you can."

"We will," Ron answered, grabbing Hermione's hand for support.

"Mrs. Weasley, thanks…well, for everything," Harry said, his eyes trying to convey all that he wanted to say but simply couldn't.

"No need to thank me, dear. It's what mothers do," she said, straightening up to her full height.

Harry nodded once and with a last look at her, he closed his eyes, turned once and disappeared on the spot.

"I love you, mum," Ron said as Hermione let go of his hand and followed Harry's lead.

"Be careful sweetheart," she replied, blowing him a kiss from the other side of the fence. Ron turned and felt the odd tug at the pit of his stomach. Just before he disappeared, he could hear his mother's voice calling out to him.

"I'll keep a light on for you."

* * *

Regulus was in the drawing room again, sitting behind the large oak desk with about a dozen books spread out before him. There was a map pinned to the wall next to him, and on closer inspection, there were several cities either circled or systematically tacked with colored pins.

"You are here earlier than I thought you'd be," he said by way of greeting. They joined him in the room and placed their bags in the corner.

"We said our goodbyes," Ron replied, looking over the desk to the volume that was open before him. "What's that?"

"A start," Regulus answered, tapping the pages with his finger. "I have traveled over the past few years and everywhere I went I kept my ears open for any little clue I could get my hands on. When I was in Norway last year, I heard of strange things happening in a little town right outside the capital. I figure it's as good a place to begin as anywhere."

Harry eyed the book and then turned his gaze to Regulus. "So we're off to Norway then?" When Regulus nodded, Harry sighed. "Okay. Just tell us what you need for us to do."

Regulus smiled quickly, closing the large book. "I need for you to be patient. Once we get there, we will have to find our way to the Lake of Omens. It is only reachable by boat, and will be a long journey."

"We'll be fine," Harry asserted, looking more closely at Regulus' face. "But what about you? You look like you didn't sleep at all last night."

Regulus tried to casually wave off Harry's comment, but then thought better of it. It seemed to Ron that he didn't want to start off this excursion by lying and covering up truths. "Too many memories in this house," Regulus said, shrugging helplessly. "A bit hard to ignore when it is dark and quiet."

Harry nodded, looking as though he was going to say something, then busied himself with moving paperweights on the desk.

"What is it, Harry?" Regulus asked. "Did you want to ask me something?"

"No, I, uh…well, I guess I wanted to sort of tell you something," Harry said. "It's just that I know you think your brother hated you, and maybe he hated what he thought you were – but he was a good person and if he'd known that you were on his side all this time, he would have tried to find you. He would have wanted to be your brother."

Regulus sat so still that Ron thought someone had put a freezing charm on him. His face grew taut as a muscle worked in his jaw. His head swung forward then, his shaggy hair covering his eyes briefly, before he lifted it to them and Ron could see a smile cross his face.

"Thank you, Harry. I'd like to believe that would have been so," he said, pushing out of his chair and straightening his cloak needlessly.

"Is Lupin going to see us off?" Hermione asked, looking out into the hall for any sign of their old professor.

Regulus shook his head. "He wanted to honor your requests that your parents wouldn't here when you left, and I guess he knows you pretty well to understand that you'd show up early. He took them into town himself about a half hour ago, but he did leave you a letter." He opened a drawer and pulled out a long envelope. "Addressed to all of you."

Harry took it and opened it, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room for a minute. Regulus got the hint, grabbing up the sack he used to cover his face.

"I'll wait for you outside," he said, making sure his path was clear so he wouldn't bump into anything. "Take all the time you need."

After he'd left, Harry unfolded the letter, gave it to Hermione, who immediately began to read.

_Harry, Ron, and Hermione,_

_I know a letter seems a bit impersonal, but I wanted to see to Hermione's parents personally. I understand why I am not going now, as there are many people you are leaving behind that need someone to keep them safe. I feel it is my great honor and privilege to be that person. I want you to know that no harm shall come to them as long as I am around. _

_I also want you to know how proud I am of you three. When you were at school, back in your third year, I had never seen a group of such misfits who could shine and stand out as you did. It reminded me of my own friends in so many ways, and it made my life seem complete for the first time in a very long time. _

_Because of you three, I was able to see Sirius again, and no matter how brief our time together was, it is something I can never repay you for. I also got to spend some time with James again, through you, Harry. I suppose you tire of hearing it, but you are your father's son in so many ways._

_Please be safe, and remember all you have learned. You have your fair share of guardian angels on your side, and more than enough support from those who will remain behind. Regulus and I spoke at length last night, and I feel that your instincts about him are right. I do believe he will help you in more ways than I could on your journey._

_I will be thinking of you often, and you carry with you all of my prayers for a quick and victorious return. Remember, I'm only ever an owl away if you should need me._

_Take care of yourselves, and each other._

_Remus_

Hermione finished reading, folding the letter as she said Lupin's name. She took the envelope from the desk where she'd discarded it, placed the paper back in gingerly, and folded it to put into her pocket.

Harry looked at her, then at Ron. "Well, that about covers things, doesn't it?"

Hermione nodded, straightening her shoulders and taking a deep breath. Harry began to leave the room, then turned back to them. "Before things get crazy, I just want you two to know…" He trailed off, his voice failing him.

"We know, mate," Ron said, filling the silence that followed Harry's words.

Harry nodded, then straightened his own shoulders. "Alright then."

He walked out the door, and even his walk seemed more confident, more self-assured. Ron turned to Hermione and held out his hand to her.

"Shall we?" he asked, giving her a smile he hoped would convey to her that everything would be just fine. When she smiled back and took his hand, he knew that she, too, understood.

They followed Harry out into the hall and stood at his side. With one last deep breath, he opened the front door and they stepped into the sunlight together, leaving everything and everyone they knew behind.

* * *

_**Done! It isn't the way I had originally intended it, but stories have a weird way of changing themselves on me when I least expect it. In a way, I really felt this story was finished at the end of last chapter...but I do understand why some of you wanted more closure. I know it was fluffy and sappy, but I figured, they are leaving, with the possibility they might not return, so if there was ever a moment for fluff and sap, it was this chapter.**_

_**I had so much fun entertaining you all with this, and I really hope to carry you all over to my new story, which should be started within the next week or so. There are a few personal things that need some attention for a while, but since I find writing to be a healthy, relaxing retreat, I may be doing more of it soon. Once I kick this cold I have, I'll be posting. THANK YOU for all you have done for me, I appreciate it more than words can express. **_

_**Take care, and may this find you all in good health.**_

_**Dana **_

_**a.k.a. snoopygubs**_


End file.
